


Just watching

by felisblanco



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Infidelity, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sexual Abuse, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-30
Updated: 2007-08-02
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 65,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Angel has a very disturbing relationship with his teenage stepson, Spike.





	1. Chapter 1

"Are you gonna eat that?"

The voice startles him and he suddenly realizes he's been staring at the boy, watching the way he eats his cereal, drops of milk trying to escape, only to be caught by a pink cat-like tongue. Blinking his eyes he tries to re-run the words in his head, make sense of them. He looks down at his own plate; scrambled eggs and bacon, cooling rapidly.

"Well, are you?" The voice is impatient now, and Angel can just about hear him add the word "wanker", in his head.

"No. I'm not hungry. You go ahead." And he pushes the plate over, even as his stomach threatens to betray his lie.

Spike grabs it greedily and starts shoveling the food into his mouth... that pretty little mouth. Makes Angel wonder what other... things might fit in there. He falls into a trance again, watching the jaws move, the lips smack, the tongue lick the fork. He only snaps out of it when the boy leans back in his chair, gulping down the last drop of orange juice from his glass. A drop of grease is still hanging on to the corner of his mouth.

"Wait. You have a... here let me." And he reaches out his hand, catching the drop with his thumb. For a moment he's convinced that Spike is leaning into his touch, but he knows it isn't so. Licking the grease of his thumb, he can almost feel the boy's heat still lingering to it.

"We gotta get going," Spike says, lazily standing up from his chair and stretching, like a cat waking up from a sun-warmed sleep. It makes his t-shirt hitch up, exposing his soft stomach, hint of hair traveling down from his belly button. Angel longs to reach out and run his finger up under that shirt, that lucky, lucky shirt. Instead he stands up as well and gathers the dishes and glasses, putting them in the sink.

As they head towards the door he silently begs; "The short jacket. Take the short jacket." And lo and behold his prayers are answered. Not that he doesn't like the duster, it's just that it covers up far too much. Going down the stairs he makes sure to walk behind Spike. His tight, well-worn jeans are hugging his ass just the right way, the rip high on his thigh exposing a tiny slit of flesh with every step. Wonder how long he can keep "forgetting" to wash the boys underwear.

In the car he manages to keep his eyes on the road... most of the time. Just a few glances, every now and then. Watching the blond-streaked hair wave in the breeze, the long eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks, the fingers drumming absentmindedly on his thigh.

The time it takes to get there is much too short for his liking. As Spike gets ready to leave the car, Angel reaches for him and pulls him into a tight hug, breathing in his scent with closed eyes before letting him go. Spike smiles, if a little embarrassed, and gets out, slamming the door.

"See you tonight, dad," he says, and walks toward the school, only pausing slightly to give Angel a little wave.


	2. Chapter 2

The slamming of the door makes Angel jump, but he doesn't turn around. The warm dishwater is foaming with soap and every bubble shows a tiny image of his face, tired and guilt ridden.

Spike hangs up his jacket, kicks of his shoes and wanders through the apartment until he finds Angel in the kitchen. He greats him cheerfully but when there is no answer he walks over and hugs Angel from behind. Resting his cheek on the warm back, he can feel the muscles beneath the thin-worn shirt stiffen momentarily, before they relax and his step-dad leans slightly back.

"Bad day?" The boy sounds worried and who can blame him. Angel's job is getting more and more stressful for him He used to love being a cop, but after Annie was... Every gun-shot victim reminds him of her, doesn't matter if it's a young woman or an old homeless guy.

"Yeah. Nothing special... just..." He shrugs.

"I know." Spike hugs him tighter before letting go. Angel's back feels cold by the loss.

"Want me to run you a bath?" The question is innocent enough but Angel can't help gripping the brush harder. He stares down into the foamy water and in his mind it's a bubble bath and there are candles all around. He takes a deep breath before answering.

"Yeah, that would be nice." Closing his eyes for a second, he hears Spike walk into the bathroom and turn the taps on. "I'm just gonna finish up here", Angel says, raising his voice over the sound of rushing water. "You want to order pizza?"

"Sure." The badly hidden disappointment in Spike's voice catches Angel's heart. It's been too long since they had a proper home-cooked meal. He's just not much of a chef. Scrambled eggs and things out of a can, those show the heights of his skills.

"Or I could..." He stops, not sure what he should offer. A chair is being drawn behind him, heavy books land on the kitchen table with a thud.

"Nah, it's cool." Spike says, putting his feet up on the chair opposite before opening his books. Angel can't help smiling. The boy is trying so hard to fit in. Not that he talks about school that much, but Angel knows how cruel kids can be. Bet the girls are swooning over the accent, though. And the looks.

Drying his hands on the kitchen towel, he finally turns around, the forced wait only making the sight sweeter. Spike is trying to solve a math problem, a slight frown on his face. He keeps tapping the pencil on the notebook but every now and then he puts it in his mouth, gnawing at the end. Finally he writes down his answer, but he is obviously not satisfied with it, because the frown deepens and he starts nibbling his lower lip. White teeth tug the pink flesh in slightly before releasing it, only to grab it again. He stares at the notebook a long time, before erasing the answer and sighing softly.

Angel licks his lips, they are suddenly so very dry, and wishes he could offer the boy some help. But he knows there is no use. The kid surpassed him in that area a long time ago. It's a matter of pride for him, having such a bright son (not really his son), but it can also be hard, especially at times like this.

He hangs up the towel and heads toward the bathroom, ruffling the boy's hair in the passing. That gets him a tiny smile. Again he thinks that maybe Spike tilted his head just a little towards him, but he knows better than to fool himself.

The bathroom is full of steam and the tub is almost full. Turning the water off he stands back and undresses, stretching the tense muscles. The door is slightly ajar. There's only one bathroom and the boy might have to use the toilet. That thought makes him pause.

"There's coke in the fridge", he says loudly before sliding into the hot water.

"Thanks. You want some?"

Does he ever.

"Yeah, why not," he says casually, leaning back, his hands behind his head. The warmth seeps through his skin and he can feel himself relax. Mostly.

"Here you go." Spike is standing beside the tub, holding out a can of coke, another one being brought slowly to his mouth. Angel reaches out for the can, their fingers touching. His wet hand leaves drops of water on Spike's fingers. The boy brings them to his mouth and licks them absentmindedly. His eyes are lingering on the naked body submerged in the clear water. Angel watches him over the brim as he takes a sip from the can. The slow widening of Spike's pupils makes his cock twitch. The boy blinks and blushes but he doesn't turn away.

"Do you think I should get circumcised?"

"What?" Whatever he was expecting (nothing, he wasn't expecting anything) it wasn't that.

"Circumcised. You know..," and the blush deepens, "...'snip'." And he does a scissor motion with his fingers.

"I know what it is. Why are you...?" And suddenly Angel feels like a specimen on display rather than just a naked man being watched by his (oh so beautiful) step-son.

"No reason." The answer comes a little too quick and Spike seems to realize his mistake. He drops his eyes to the floor and his embarrassment is so (incredibly delicious)adorable that Angel longs to drag him into the tub and hold him tight against his chest.

"William?" Spike's real name, the one he never uses because that's what his mum used to call him, makes the boy raise his gaze, looking so young it's heartbreaking. "Are they teasing you... the boys in school?"

"No. Yes. Maybe." He looks down again, seeming to study his naked toes. There is silence for some time. Spike is nibbling his lip again and Angel is trying to think of all the worst things in the world, anything to keep his cock still. Still. Damn.

"They say girls don't like it... this way." Spike motions downwards. "That they think it's dirty. That it will...taste bad." By now his face is glowing with shame, but he doesn't turn away. Instead he stares stubbornly at his feet.

"And what do you think?" Angel's voice is steady, but his heart keeps beating faster and faster.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. Do girls find you... dirty?" He finally looks up, stealing a glance at the now fully erect cock, only slightly obscured by the rippled water.

"Don't remember them complaining." That earns him another blush and for a horrified moment he imagines the boy picturing his mother sucking Angel off.

"Look, it has nothing to do with whether you're circumcised or not. It's just personal hygiene. I bet yours is much cleaner than most off those guys'."

Oh, God. Did he really say that? He can't help groaning and the hilarity off the situation seems to dawn on Spike because suddenly he's trying hard to suppress a giggle. They look each other in the eye and soon the bathroom is filled with hysterical laughter. Spike finally drops down to sit on the floor, leaning back against the bathtub, silent laughter still shaking his body every now and then. His hair is just within Angel's reach. Stroking the boys soft locks tenderly, Angel closes his eyes and savors the moment.

For a long time they stay that way, the shared silence soothing them. The water is getting cold but Angel doesn't want to move. Nothing could make him move now.

"How does it taste?" Spike's shy voice startles him out of a pleasant dream and he looks down at the boy's head, only seeing part of his profile.

"You've never tried tasting... yourself?", he says, cringing inwardly. God, why are you doing this to me?

"No. Can I...should I do that?"

"Only way you'll know."

Unless Spike wants him to taste it for him. Angel's free hand slides silently down and he strokes his now rock-hard cock. It's all right. The boy is turned away, he can't see him. The sound of a zipper being pulled down makes him freeze. He holds his breath, his ears straining for every dirty little sound.

Skin against fabric. Flesh slapping against the hand as the cock is freed. A soft moan and the licking of fingers. Angel's hand starts moving again, he's breathing as silently as he can, not wanting to distract the boy.

"It's kinda salty. Is it supposed to be like that?" He sounds so innocent, that Angel has to fight hard not to (grab him, kiss him, fuck him to the ground) move.

"Yes." He swallows.

"Oh. Are you sure?" The voice is doubtful.

"Yes."

"And they don't mind it tasting... like this?"

"No."

"Hmm." Spike seems to ponder on this for a moment. Angel can hear him lick his fingers again. The sound almost undoes him. He manages to suppress the panting threatening to betray him. He is so close, just a few more strokes.

"Would you mind tasting it for me?"

With a shudder Angel spurts his cum into the water, where it swims, looking like white maggots drowning. He forces himself to breathe deep and slowly.

"The water is getting really cold and I'm hungry. Why don't we talk about this later?" His voice is so steady it amazes him.

Spike's shoulders drop slightly and he hangs his head in silence. Then he tugs himself in before standing up. Without looking at the man in the bathtub he nods.

"Sure. I'll call for pizza." And he walks out, closing the door firmly behind him. 


	3. Chapter 3

Angel gets out of the tub, avoiding the cum floating around in the (dirty, dirty, dirty) water. He really should take a quick shower to wash off but Spike would hear him and ask him why he has to shower after a bath. And he _really_ doesn't want to answer that. He dries himself slowly with shaking hands, and shamefully regrets his decision to not fetch his bath robe earlier. Before...

Shit, what the fuck really happened here? He finds himself staring in the mirror, facing a creature he doesn't recognize. For far too long he's been in denial of what he's been doing.

Ever since that day last summer when they'd gone to the lake to swim and Spike hadn't realized until to late that he'd left his swim-shorts at home. Angel had laughed and told him to stop being such a ninny and just hop in.

And then the sight of the boy pulling down his jeans and underwear awkwardly, revealing the soft line of hair leading down to a nest of honey coloured curls had totally silenced him. He hadn't realized how well the boy had... developed. Well, he _should_ have known, being his dad and all (not his dad, not really) it just hadn't registered in the rush of everyday life. But there was no denying it, Spike was not a little boy anymore.

Closing his eyes he runs the images through his head one more time. The lean muscular body, the slight swaying of his (long, thick, perfectly shaped) cock as he walked slowly into the water. His nipples hardening at the sudden cold, the way the sun made every hair on his body appear golden. And at that moment something had changed. He'd begun to see the boy not as a child to be taken care of, but as a young man. A young man that he _really_ wanted to take care of.

His eyes snap open and now the man in the mirror is no longer a stranger. This is a face he knows very well. It's the face of someone consumed by pure lust. Pupils dilated until only a rim of colour is showing, nostrils flaring, mouth half-open, panting slightly. He has worn this face often enough before. In bed sliding his hand up Annie's thigh. Jerking off in front off a sleazy movie when he was sure the boy was asleep. But this time it is so _wrong_. And the fact that only thinking that word makes him hitch his breath, tells him how deeply he has fallen.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

And with a shudder he comes for the second time that night. He hadn't even noticed he was touching himself. Shocked he stares down at the splats on the wall. Is this really what he is? A pedophile? A potential molester? Oh, God. What the fuck is he going to do?

The sound of the doorbell startles him and his face reddens with shame. No one can know. No one. This has to stop now. Spike... Oh God, can it be that Spike knows? That his innocent act was just that, an act? How could he not know? With all the hugs and the looks and...

He's going to Hell. A very special Hell they made for sick people like him. Oh, Jesus, he could go to **prison**! And everyone knows what happens to pedophiles in prison. Just the thought makes his chest hurt.

"Pizza's here."

He jumps and instinctively wraps his towel tighter around him. Spike's voice sounds normal enough. Maybe he really is innocent. Best to play it cool, like nothing happened.

Because nothing has happened.

Yet.

No! Nothing _will_ happen. Nothing. Will. Happen.

Wiping the cursed evidence of the tiled wall, he takes a deep breath and opens the door.  
\---  
Spike looks up as his dad enters the kitchen, trying to read his face. He obviously did something wrong. He never should have... But he just wanted to know. And who else could he ask? Besides, this last year they have become more like mates than father and son. It was a bit strange at first, but he likes it. 'S not like he has many friends at school. Or any for that matter. The guys mostly make fun of his accent and his height, calling him the Itty Bitty Brit and other more unpleasant names. The girls seem to like him well enough, but he hasn't met one he fancies yet. Guess he's more of a guys' guy.

Angel seems to be avoiding his gaze. He hugs the towel tighter around his body and sits stiffly down before taking a slice of pizza and biting into it. He chews on the same bite for a long time, like he's having trouble swallowing it down.

"I'm sorry."

The whispered words make Angel almost jump out of his skin. He looks over at the boy who doesn't look guilty, just very confused and rather embarrassed.

"No. You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one who should be apologizing." (On his hands and knees, begging for forgiveness) The look of relief on his son's face makes his chest tighten and he manages a forced smile. "I am just tired. You know you can talk to me about anything at all. Anytime."

"Thanks, daddy." Oh God.

"Why don't we finish this in front of the tv?" And he smiles again before hurrying into his bedroom to change into sweats and a t-shirt.

Two sitcoms and a movie later Angel looks down to find Spike soundly asleep, his head resting in his dad's lap. He sits there for a long time, savoring the heat radiating from the boy, running his fingers through the soft locks of hair. Finally he eases himself away, standing up and stretching before picking up the limp body in his arms. The boy is getting heavier, but he can manage well enough. When he reaches Spike's room the door is closed and he can't open it without putting the boy down. For a long time he stands still before turning away and heading toward his own room. The bed is quite big enough for the both of them. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is where it turns... bad/good/very, very wrong.
> 
> As before, the same warnings apply. And also, keep in mind I tend to write this totally sleep deprived and it's completely unbeta'd. This was never supposed to become such a long fic, so I have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm doing. Just taking it one day at the time.

He's having the most wonderful dream. Warm fingers are caressing his chest, soft lips are kissing his shoulder. A slender foot slides over his leg and a hard cock presses...

A hard cock? He stiffens, too scared to open his eyes. This is no dream. Someone is moaning in his ear. Someone... oh God!

This can't be happening. This really can't be happening. Light fingers are traveling down his body. Down, down... He has to stop this. He has to...

Oh Jesus. The boy must be doing this in his sleep and any minute now he's gonna find something quite unexpected and freak out. Any minute now. He has to stop this. Any minute now. Oh, God! Nnnghhh... Breath, breath. He's still touching him. Stroking him. Guess he isn't freaked.

Stop him! Open your eyes, take his hand and move it gently away. Now. Now! Oh, please. Must stop him. Must stop... Oh God. Oh God. Oh God!! Just a little longer. Just...

No! Can't let him do this. Can't let him do that... oh yes, exactly that. No! Oh Jesus. Oh, mother-fucking-holy-fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh yeeess....

The slender hand keeps stroking him afterwards, lips nibbling and kissing at his neck. The boy's cock nudges against him searching for release. If he just stretches his fingers a little bit he can reach it. His fingertips ache to touch the object of his last years obsession, but he can't. He has to pretend he's still asleep and hope against all reason that Spike is asleep as well, only playing out a wet dream. Please, God, please, let it be so. Finally the boy moans and shudders, and warm wetness spreads across Angel's thigh. With a last sigh, Spike then snuggles closer, muttering something that sounds like...

"Love you, daddy."

Oh shit.  
\------------------

Angel is cooking up the biggest guilt breakfast he could manage when Spike comes wandering into the kitchen. The boy is only wearing boxers, his hair is ruffled and sticks out in such a (just been fucked raw) cute way Angel can't help smiling, even if his stomach is doing flip-flops stressing about this encounter.

"Morning." Spike yawns and rubs his eyes, looking like nothing happened. Just a normal night jerking off his dad. Then he looks up, a puzzled look on his face. "Why was I in your bed?"

"You fell asleep... and I couldn't open your door...and... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"Relax, dad. I was just wondering. Gee, what's got you all worked up?"

You. Just you, son.

"Nothing. Just the usual stress, I guess. So... did you sleep well?" He's trying to sound casual, just inquiring, taking an interest, doesn't matter in the slightest...

"I did. Haven't slept this good in like... forever. Your bed is so much nicer than mine. I should sleep there more often." Spike looks up at him, smiling.

"Or maybe we should get you a better bed." Angel says quickly, turning towards the frying pan again.

"Yeah, maybe." He steals a quick look at the boy, wondering if that's disappointment he's hearing. But Spike's hidden behind the morning paper. He laughs softly so he's probably reading the comics as usual. He puts their plates on the table, heaps of eggs, bacon, toast and mushrooms. Spike puts the paper down and stares at the steaming mountain.

"Wow. You must have woken up early to do all this. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. Was just feeling hungry, that's all." Early morning sex can do that to you.

Angel sits, picking at his food, moving it around so it's not to obvious he isn't eating. Every time Spike looks up, he puts the fork into his mouth and smiles back, keeping up the charade. Luckily, Spike doesn't seem to notice, he's to engrossed in shoveling food into his mouth. Wonder where it all goes. The boy doesn't have an ounce of fat on him, just smooth muscles, covered with (soft, so soft) milky-white skin. Another thing he's sure the kids make fun off. Everyone in California is so tanned. Spike on the other hand has his mother's complexion.

The thought of Annie puts another ton of guilt on Angel's conscience. For the first time since she died he's glad she isn't alive to witness this depravity. On the other hand, if she had been alive, nothing like this would ever have happened. And the guilt is drowning him when he realizes that _that_ is more terrifying than anything.

"Are you all right?" Spike's worried voice rouses him out of his guilty depression. He is watching Angel with those big blue eyes, filled with concern.

"I... I'm fine. Finish your breakfast."

"I finished it five minutes ago. You've been sitting there staring at me like... did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble?"

"No, no, it's nothing. You've done nothing wrong." He on the other hand...

"So tell me then. What is it?" The boy reaches across and takes his hand. "Is it mum? Did you have a dream about her again?"

Grabbing the straw he's been handed Angel only nods, before standing up, walking into his bedroom and sitting heavily down on the bed. He runs his fingers through his hair, rubs the back of his neck and closes his eyes. He can feel a headache building up behind his eyes and he sighs, covering his face with his hand. This is going to be such a long day. He's just about to lie back when he feels the bed move and warm hands start rubbing his aching back.

"Spike..."

"Sshh. Just relax."

And he does, feeling the incredibly strong slender fingers finding all his sore spots, stroking, rubbing, pushing. It feels so good, warming him all up, making his tense muscles slacken, his heart beat faster, his cock...

No! He stiffens and tries to stand up, but Spike grabs his arm and drags him down until Angel lies back on the bed, head in his lap. The boy is watching him with unreadable eyes, lips slightly parted, sweet breath brushing against Angel's face.

"I said relax. I'll make you feel good. Make you forget." And he kisses Angel softly on the forehead, while rubbing his temples with slow circular motions of his thumbs.

"Spike, please, don't."

"It's okay. I want to. Close your eyes."

And he does, just closes his eyes and gets lost in a world that contains nothing but the boy's warm lap, sweet smell and sensual fingers. He is slowly drifting away, when he feels the boy shifting beneath him. Angel's head is probably pretty heavy to hold. He pats absentmindedly the boy's thigh, before lifting his head to make it easier for him to move away. Sinking back onto the soft bed he feels so content that when Spike lies down and snuggles up beside him it feels natural to put his arm around his son and pull him closer. A slender arm sneaks across his abdomen, the boy's head lies on his chest, soft hair brushing his chin.

Angel is dreaming again, but this time he doesn't try to block out who he's lusting for. Spike is kissing him with soft lips. His eyes are closed, the long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His tongue slips into Angel's mouth, hesitantly at first but then with more confidence. Slender fingers run through his hair, and the kiss gets deeper, harder. Finally Angel can't take it any more. He rolls them over, pinning the boy's arms above his head. God, he's so beautiful. Lips swollen with desire, pupils dilated till his eyes are almost black, short heavy breaths, body trembling, hips bucking up against him.

Angel crushes his lips with a hungry mouth, fucking him with his tongue. They grind their pelvises together, cocks slick with precum sliding against each other. Keeping one hand on the boy's wrists he runs the other between the slender thighs and his fingers find the tiny virgin opening. Just a light touch makes Spike gasp. Bringing his hand back up he slicks his fingers with saliva and moves down again. This time he can probe gently, finally slipping one finger in up to the first knuckle.

"Oh, daddy. Please. Yes... please fuck me." Spike cries out, bucking wildly.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? You want your daddy to ram his cock inside you and fuck you so hard, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, please, please, daddy, fuck me, fuck me now"

Somewhere in the farthest part of his brain he knows he's just repeating some cheesy line from a bad porno but it doesn't matter because this... this is what he wants, what he longs for, lusts for, with such force that nothing can keep him from having his way with the boy. This time he's going to take him, consume him completely. This time...

"Dad?"

He wakes up with a start, staring right into Spike's so very innocent eyes, looking at him with worry. Angel is gasping for breath, his body shivering with desire and for a fracture of a second he actually thinks of giving in to it.

"Dad? Are you...?"

"Go. Get out." (Monster. I'm a fucking monster).

"What?" Spike looks at him in disbelief.

"Please. Just get out." (Please God, why are you doing this to me?)

"Why are you..? What's wrong?" Spike moves his hand to stroke Angel's face, but his dad swats it away.

"William. Get. Out." (Run. Run away from me. I'm a bad, bad man.)

Spike tumbles off the bed, tears in his eyes, then turns around and runs out. A minute later Angel hears the front door slammed shut. He turns over to his side, curls up like a child and sobs his heart out.


	5. Chapter 5

By dinner time Angel is going mad with worry. The whole day he's been pacing the apartment, trying to form some plan of action, making up stupid speeches in his head. But the last hour has been spent staring out the window, watching cars drive by, people walking their dogs, kids on roller-blades. Just a normal day in everyones lives. Everyone's except his. Nothing will ever be normal again. What the fuck is he gonna do?

It's now dark outside, raindrops slide down the glass and in the distance a low rumble indicates an oncoming storm. Finally he can't stand it any longer. He grabs his coat and keys, he'll just have to drive around and hope he spots his son (he's his son, dammit). Wrenching the door open he stops dead. Right outside the door Spike is sitting on the ground, arms around his bony knees. He looks up with red-rimmed eyes, his face streaked by tears. He's trembling with cold, his clothes soaking wet by the evenings light drizzle.

"Oh, God! Spike! Where have you been?" Holding him tight, never letting him go.

"Just... just here. I had... nowhere else... to go." The boy says between sobs, his fingers tightening the grip on Angel's coat, like he's afraid to let go, afraid he will be rejected. "I'm so sorry, dad. Please don't leave me. I couldn't stand it if you left me."

"You stupid beautiful boy. I'm not gonna leave you. How could I leave you? I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all me, just me."

He carries the boy into the main bedroom, putting him down on the bed. They stay in each others embrace for a long time before Angel pries the boys arms loose.

"We have to get you out of these wet clothes. You're freezing." And for once every revealed part of Spike's body isn't igniting lust in him. It is cold and clammy and covered in goosebumps. He just wants to make sure he's all right. His little boy, his precious baby. "I'll run you a hot bath, son. Stay here." He covers Spike with the duvet, taking the wet clothes with him as he goes into the bathroom. As he turns on the water he can hear the boy crying. For a moment he can't think, can't move. Part of him wants to stay in here forever, hidden from the misery he knows is waiting for him, another parts wants to run back to his son and hug him and kiss him until all is well again.

He uses the time to pull himself together as the tub fills up. Turning the water off, he checks the temperature before walking slowly back into the bedroom. Spike is still shivering, curled up under the duvet, soft sobs escaping every now and then.

"There now, baby. Lets get you warm. Can you walk?"

Spike nods as he stands up, swaying slightly. His legs are still stiff from sitting on the hard concrete for hours and when he tries to walk he stumbles.

"Here. I've got you." Angel puts his arm around him and half supports him, half carries him into the bathroom. As the hot water engulfs the boy's icecold skin he lets loose a slight whimper.

"I'm sorry! Is it too hot? I can..."

"IT feels good, dad. I like it hot." For a long time they stay together in silence, Spike reclined in the bath, eyes closed, lips twisted worriedly; Angel slumped on the toilet seat, rubbing his hands nervously.

"Dad, why did you...?" The boys voice is tense and shaky.

"Can we... just talk about it later? Please?" Like the day after I go to Hell? That would be nice. Bet they have phones for just this kind of talks. "How about I make you some warm soup? And then I think you should go to bed."

"Ok." The sad, small voice makes the boy sound ten years old, and Angel feels like the claws of the Devil are ripping his heart out. Quietly he goes into the kitchen and finds a can of soup.

A child. He is merely a child. He might look like a young man, but he is still a child. Not only in the eyes of the law, but in his soul, his mind, his heart. And Angel was only a movement from taking that away from him, dragging him into the ugly world of adulthood, shattering his innocent view of his father's love for him. Well, all that is over now. There is no way he'll ever think of his son that way again. No way he will ever long for a glimpse of his fair skin, the touch of his slender fingers, the sweet smell of his hair.

He can hear Spike getting out of the bath tub and calls out to him to go lie down, he will bring the soup. When it's finally done he puts it in the largest mug and heads for the boy's bedroom.

He is not there.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Angel takes a deep breath before heading for his own room. It will be all right. He doesn't see him that way anymore. It will be all right.

Spike is lying on his back, the duvet pulled up to his chin, tufts of honey-blond hair sticking up in all directions. When his father comes in he gives him a sad uncertain smile. And as determined that Angel was to let him move over to his own room, he really can't without explaining why.

"Here you go. Watch out, it might be hot."

"Thanks, dad." The duvet slides down when the boy sits up and takes the mug.. His skin is pink from the hot bath and he smells of Angel's shampoo. Pursing his lips he blows on the soup, hot steam circling his face. The first sip makes him flinch, burning his tongue. Frowning in annoyance, he sticks his injured tongue out and tries to huff cold air on it. And Angel has to pull on all his strength not to suck it into his own mouth. Oh yeah, he's so over that whole I-wanna-fuck-my-stepson thing.

It takes some time, but Spike drinks down all the soup before lying back against the soft pillows.

"You just sleep now, baby. I'll sit here with you."

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Oh, except Hell. But that will wait. He reaches out his hand and strokes the boy's hair. So soft. So very soft. Blue adoring eyes lock with his for a moment before closing. Soon the only thing that can be heard is Spike's even breathing. For a long time Angel sits there, watching the chest rise and fall, the eyes moving behind paperthin eyelids. God, he's so beautiful. The picture of pure innocence. Just waiting to be corrupted. Won't be long anyway. He's going to enter the world of juvenile rebellion pretty soon. Start exploring his desires and needs. Just a matter of time...

When he's sure the boy is fast asleep he undresses and crawls under the duvet as far away from him as he can manage. The last thing he sees is Spike turned back and the gracious curve of his neck.

Will he never get his rest? Images of Spike hunt his dreams. In some of them the boy is kneeling naked before him, looking up at him with adoration, lips swollen and bruised, eyes dark with desire. In others he is the child he was when Angel first met his mother except in the dream he's huddled in a corner, crying: "Why, dad? Why?" His hair is stained with cum and blood is running from his anus. And Angel cries as he reaches for him:" Because I love you.".

A slight shake wakes him up from his misery.

"Sshh dad. It's all right." He blinks in the dark, trying to get his bearing. In the silver lightning of the moon he can see his son's face, wide eyes glittering. He reaches out with slender fingers and wipes the tears from Angel's cheeks.

"Spike, you have to get away from me. I can't do this. I can't fight anymore."

"Then don't."

"Don't say that. You don't know what I'm talking about."

"Don't I?"

The soft kiss is sweeter than in any of his dreams. The boy's warm lips melt against his, tasting of youth and tomato soup. And suddenly all his fear and self-hatred vanishes and all there is is milky skin, blue eyes and pink lips. The boy's body feels small in his arms but filled with strength and hunger. Legs entwine, arms hold tight, fingers run through hair. A wet tongue seeks entrance, searching for his warmth. It is shy, but determined and soon they are battling for dominance.

Then the boy moves away, only to trail kisses down his chest. He reaches a hard nipple and sucks on it hesitantly. His father's gasps encourage him and he moves to the other one, biting it lightly. Angel lies still, one hand stroking the boy's hair, the other arm slung over his eyes. His breath gets faster as Spike's hot lips move downwards, finally reaching the now painfully erect member. When he gets there he stops, not sure how to proceed. Finally he runs his tongue lightly over the tip.

The fingers tightening in his hair makes him pull away quickly. He looks up at his dad. Angel is completely still, except for shivers running through his whole body. Spike stays completely still, uncertain what to do. The gasp escaping from his father's lips startles him and he's about to move away when the hand on his head slowly pushes him down toward the leaking cock. His lips hardly even touch it before Angel's body goes rigid and warm cum fills Spike's mouth. He tries to swallow it but it tastes strange and he gags. Discreetly he wipes his mouth on the sheets before moving up to kiss Angel's lips, only to stop short.

Angel stares at him, his breath slowly going back to normal. Spike suddenly is very self-conscious and bows his head. For a long time they stay that way, the only sound heard their separate breaths.

"Was I no good?" (Oh God)

"No! I mean... Spike, you shouldn't have done that." (Why did you have to do that?)

"Why? You wanted it. And I wanted it. I still want it." And he looks up, tears trailing down his cheeks "I still want you."

"Spike... Will. It's wrong. You know it's wrong." So terribly, deliciously wrong.

"Why?"

"Because I am your father and you... you are a child." Guess the innocence is gone.

"I'm not a child. And you're not really my father."

"It doesn't matter. It's still wrong. You know that." Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

"Don't you love me?"

"I love you more than anything." Beautiful, beautiful boy

"Don't you want me?"

And that broken voice finally undoes him. He pulls the boy into his tight embrace, kissing his neck and shoulder, inhaling the sweet smell of boy-sweat.

"Oh, God. I want you so much it's killing me."


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning he wakes up with an armful of naked Spike. And he can't help thinking, guilt aside, that this must be heaven. They didn't go any further last night. All the crying pretty much drained them. But he so wanted to. Wanted to show the boy, teach him, lead him into the numerous delights his body can give him. He still wants to, God help him. It's Sunday and the whole world is quiet. Even the birds are sleeping in.

Carefully he entangles himself from the boy's warm body and tip-toes into the bathroom. Peeing and then brushing his teeth he tells himself that the reason he won't look in the mirror is that he looks awful first thing in the morning. In the scolding shower he tells himself it's good for the skin to rub it with soap until it feels raw. Fetching the morning paper he convinces himself that he just didn't see Father Ryan walking by until it was too late to greet him. Making the coffee bitter is the way he's always liked it. Burnt toast is the best.

He lets the boy sleep. After all it is Sunday. The day God meant for them to rest. The day God-fearing people confess their sins. And he can't help contemplating for a tiny second if he should go to church and do just that. Give Father Ryan something really good to choke on. How many Hail Marys absolve molestation?

Putting thoughts of God inside that same dark room in his brain where he keeps his guilt, he starts cleaning the apartment. It was long due anyway. By noon it shines like new. He has washed all their dirty clothes, re-arranged the kitchen cupboards and placed the old newspapers at the door, ready for recycling. He goes outside and mows the lawn. He goes down on his hands and knees and pulls the weed out of the flower beds. And some flowers as well since he never quite knows the difference. And as the sun moves across the sky and he can't work away his thoughts anymore, guilt and shame finally take control again.

"Hi dad." Spike's uncertain voice makes him freeze for a moment, but he doesn't look up, just keeps scratching the dark earth.

"Morning, son. Sleep well?" Ok, that was just pathetic. But he really can't look up at his son. Which is so strange, because there's nothing he wants more.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Killing mums flowers. And avoiding me." The hurt tone makes Angel close his eyes. He takes a deep breath before standing up and turning to look at the boy. He manages a fake smile and walks over to him, drying his hands on his jeans.

"I'm sorry. About the avoiding thing." He frowns. "And killing the flowers, I guess." He looks back to view his handiwork. "Those aren't weed?"

"No, not really."

"Oh." For a moment they stand together in the sun, looking at the disaster area.

"We could always buy some new ones?" Spike offers, sliding his arm around his dad's waist. Angel jumps forward, causing the boy to slightly loose his balance.

"Spike, you can't do that. Someone might see us." He turns away and walks inside. Spike stands still for a moment in disbelief before running in after him.

"So what?" he yells, grabbing Angel's arm, "I don't care."

"You should." He rips free from the boy's grip and walks into the kitchen. A drink. He really needs a drink.

"Why? I love you. I don't care who knows." His voice is angry, tears starting to show in the corners of his eyes. Angel turns to him, anger seeping into him as well.

"Why? Because what we did is wrong. It's illegal and I could go to jail."

"What we did? Are you saying it's over?" Spike's voice is getting shrill, sounding more like the boy he is than ever before.

"It has to be. This was just a one time thing. We can never do it again." Never. Ever.

"So what? You were just using me? You needed a fuck so you got me to suck you off?" The slap across his face catches him completely off-guard.

"Don't you use that kind of language with me!"

"What? Fuck? You don't like the word fuck?"

"I said, don't talk to me like that!" Angel moves toward him, fists clenched.

"Well, you don't seem to have a problem with it when you're having your wet dreams."

Angel stares at him in disbelief, all his anger evaporating as shame fills his heart. "You heard that?", he asks quietly.

"Yeah." Spike can't look him in the eye anymore. His anger is gone as well and he just wants to cry. Wants his dad to hold him, kiss him, make him feel good again. "That's how I knew you wouldn't laugh at me for... for kissing you."

Oh God. Angel sits shakily down on a kitchen chair, running his fingers through his hair.

"How... how long have you known?"

"Not long. Just since yesterday when you... when you kicked me out." Spike keeps studying his toes. A drop falls down on his right foot..

"Dear God, what have I done?" Angel hides his face in his hands. He pushed the boy to do it. He probably thought he'd get kicked out for real if he didn't...

"Nothing. You didn't do anything I didn't want you to. I had wished for it for so..."

"Don't say it."

"It's true! You know it's true. I wanted it. It was my fault." And Spike's shoulders start shaking.

"No!" Angel launches himself at the boy, taking his face between his hands, forcing him to look him in the eye. "None of this is your fault. None. Do you hear me?"

"But I..."

"No! None of it. I'm supposed to be the adult. You are my responsibility. I failed you." They stand only inches from each other, the boy crying and shaking.

"But... but I.. I wanted you... to, da...daddy. I love you so much."

"Oh God, I love you too. You know I do." And he kisses the boy again and again, on the forehead, the eyelids, the cheeks. When he moves down to his lips Spike kisses him back with desperation, his hitching breath echoing in Angel's mouth. 


	7. Chapter 7

For a moment the earth stands still. Spike's mouth is warm and needy, his tongue tastes of toothpaste. Slowly they move their bodies closer together until it feels like they are melting into one being. Angel runs his hands down from Spike's face and they travel, over his shoulder, down his back, around his ass. He can feel the boy's erection pressing into his thigh, his fingers moving down his chest, closer, closer...

The shrill ringing of the phone makes them jump and they stand frozen, staring at each other. Eyes dark with desire, lips swollen with need. The second ring wakes Angel out of his stupor and he lets his hands fall to his sides, before stepping back, eyes still locked. He reaches for the phone slowly, moving it to his ear.

"No," he says after a while, "we are happy with the insurance we have." Still not breaking the gaze, he replaces the phone on the table, clicking off the connection. Spike takes a step towards him but Angel backs away. His battling emotions reflect on his face. This is it. This is the defining moment. His head is screaming "No!", but his heart is whispering "Yes." And for some reason that is all he hears..

Spike watches him, first in confusion, then with growing anger but soon his lower lip starts trembling. He so doesn't want to cry again, he wants to prove he's not a child, not a boy. He's a man now. Well, he will be if... And he has to bite down to keep it from wobbling. And that's when Angel says:

"Let me do that for you." One step, head bows down and he can feel blunt teeth pulling at his lip, chewing it lightly before letting it go with a snap. Angel's tongue licks the battered lip before plunging inside, tickling his own, making him gasp and moan. Then he steps back again and dark brown eyes look into clear blue with hunger.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Yes, " the boy breathes, want making his head spin. His hand reaches and strokes Angel's chest, longing for his warm embrace. Angel takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second before continuing.

"Anytime you want, you can stop."

"I'll never want to stop." Spike tries to kiss him again, but Angel takes him by the arms and forces the boy to look at him.

"You say that now, but I want you to remember what I said. If you at any time don't feel comfortable, or feel scared or just uncertain, tell me. Promise?"

"I won't..."

"Promise!" And he shakes the boy slightly, desperation in his voice.

"Yes, yes, I promise." He tries to claim his fathers mouth but he can't fight the strong arms holding him. His heart is beating fast, Angel's fingers burning his skin.

"Spike, if we continue this, you can never tell anyone. Never! Do you understand?" Letting him loose, stroking those beautiful cheek bones.

"Yes." Leaning into the touch, turning his head to kiss the calloused palm.

"This is not a game or an adventure." Kissing his neck "This is very wrong," biting lightly "and it's very illegal." Breathing hard. "Do you have any idea what would happen if they found out?" Searching under his t-shirt. "The school?" Pinching one nipple. "Your friends?" Pinching the other.

"I won't tell anyone." Gasp "I swear." Moan "I'm not... stupid." Shudder.

"They will take you away from me," moving his hands down, "and I will never get to see you again." stroking his belly. "Do you understand?" So soft, so soft.

"I won't tell." Panting with need. "I never want to loose you." A tiny sob hiccups in his breath, tears stinging his eyes.

"I'll never let you go." Nibbling at his chin.

"Please..." His head is light, he's starting to sway slightly. He grabs hold of Angel's shirt, closing his eyes.

"You want me to kiss you?" A finger sweeps over his hard cock..

"Ye..oh, yes. Kiss me, daddy. Touch me." Angel has to fight not to bend the boy over the table right there and then. Instead he moves his hands back up, ignoring the slight whimpers this invokes.

"I will, baby. I will make you feel so good. But I want to take this slowly, okay?" And he gives Spike a light kiss.

"I guess." But he can see the need in his eyes.

"Soon, baby. I promise." Leaving the boy panting he starts digging in the cupboards, finally finding a box of pancake-mix. "How about a real all American breakfast?"

"I'd rather have you." Spike's pouting lip sticks out adorably and Angel grins.

"You will. But first breakfast." He starts mixing the batter, adding the needed ingredients. Halfway through he feels slender arms encircling him and a warm body pressing into his. He leans back, enjoying the closeness.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Does it hurt?" He freezes for a moment before turning around and looking at the boy. He's not even going to try pretending he doesn't know what the boy is talking about.

"We don't have to do that. In fact, we better not."

"I'm not scared. I'm just...I'm sorry." And he turns away, not able to look Angel in the eye. A strong hand on his shoulder pulls him back and he is seized by trembling arms

"Will. Don't say that. I told you, we're not gonna do anything you don't want to."

"But I do... want to, I mean. I'm just a bit nervous." And he can feel the tears coming again. God, he's such a girl.

"Baby, I'm scared shitless." Angel's words finally make Spike look up and he's shocked by the tears in his dad's eyes. "Let's just take one step at a time and any time you feel too scared, just tell me, ok?"

"Ok." They hug tightly. "So does it?" he asks Angel's shirt.

"A bit, I guess. I haven't exactly tried it."

"Never?"

"No."

And for some reason Spike feels very happy about that.  
\---  
When Angel finally puts the plate of pancakes on the table, Spike's stomach is growling. He puts a stack off pancakes on his plate, before drowning them with syrup. He hadn't noticed how hungry he was. For food that is.

Angel enjoys watching the boy eat while picking at his own food and drinking coffee. Which he nearly sputters all over the table when he feels Spike's foot sliding up his leg, then toes rubbing his crotch. The boy keeps on eating, looking innocent like a lamb, except for a slight grin tucking at the right corner of his mouth.

Closing his eyes, Angel leans back. He's hard as a rock and he's pretty sure this taking-it-slow thing is a lost deal. Finally Spike lays his fork down and removes his foot, only to walk over and hug his dad from behind. He looks up at the boy and they kiss, the sweet taste of syrup mingling with Angel's coffee tainted. Slowly he stands up, never breaking contact. They move toward the bedroom, clothes being ripped of, item by item, along the way. Kissing, touching, rubbing.

Once there, Angel pushes Spike onto the bed, almost predatory in his gaze. The boy is trembling, wearing nothing but boxers, his cock showing through the thin material.

"Let me be good to you, baby." Dropping down on his knees, blowing hot air at the bulge, watching it grow even further. He slides the boxers off, allowing the boy's painful erection to bounce free. It's leaking with need, and the low moans from it's owner are gratifying to say the least. He wants to do this as well as he can. Show him, teach him, make him scream his name. He runs his tongue up the shaft and Spike arches of the bed, gasping loudly.

"That feel good?" And he does it again, slower this time.

"Yeah...more." Spike can hardly speak.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you more... soon."

As he keeps teasing his son with his tongue, licking his shaft and his sack, but never touching the tip, Spike feels like he's going to die. Or explode. Or simply faint because he's never felt so good his entire life. When the hot lips and tongue move away from his cock he can't help whimpering but as Angel starts worshiping his whole body with his warm mouth he thinks he's gone to heaven. Every now and then Angel comes up to kiss his lips, nuzzle his neck or nibble his ear, leaving him even more breathless. Finally when he thinks he can't take it anymore the tip of his cock is sucked into Angel's mouth and he comes with such force he arches of the bed, screaming out:

"Daddy!" 


	8. Chapter 8

Drawing the panting boy into his arms, Angel eases them higher up on the bed before collapsing. He licks his lips, trying to catch a drop that is running toward his chin, when the boy's tongue suddenly laps it up. He is still panting, puffs of hot air caressing Angel's skin.

"I could learn to like this," he says, smacking his lips, which makes Angel's heart skip a beat and he seizes the boy for another kiss, giving him a proper taste. It leaves Spike breathless and he can feel his head swimming. He curls himself around his dad's warm body, lazily trailing his fingers over his chest. Angel's hard breathing makes him look up and then down at the source of his discomfort.

"Oh. You didn't get any." His innocent wonder goes straight to Angel's groin, making his dick even harder. The boy watches as it twitches and drops of precum start leaking down the shaft. He reaches his hand out for it, touching it tenderly.

"Oh God, yes." Angel can't help arching his body, the slight touch making him ache for more.

"You like that?"

"Yes."

"You like it when I do this?" Slender fingers wrap around him, causing him to shiver and gasp for breath.

"Oh, yes!"

"How about this?" Moving slowly up and down, smearing the clear precum over the head.

"That's... good too." The hesitant slow motion is driving him crazy with need. In his mind he's flipping the boy over, spreading his cheeks...

"Am I doing it right?"

"Yeah, just... a little... faster." The speed increases but the grip is still so loose. But it's good, so good. (...slicking a finger, teasing the tender opening...)

"Am I good to you, dad?"

"Oh, yes! Such a ... good boy. Such. A. Good. Boy." He reaches with his hand and wraps it around his son's grip, squeezing it tighter. (...positioning himself at the entrance and...)

"Dad likes it... hard." (..shoving inside, feeling the boy's heat engulf him as the muscles spasm around him...)

"Oh, God, yes. Just. Like. That. (...the boy squirms beneath him. Pleasure? Pain? He doesn't really care. Not as long as it feels so good to be buried inside him, pounding into him...)

"Good.. boy. Daddy's... good... boy." (..until finally he can feel his balls clenching and ...) A stream of semen spurts onto the boy's chest, as the waves of Angel's release make him shudder with ecstasy, emptying him and leaving him totally fulfilled. He can feel the boy moving beside him, drying his hand on the sheets, shuddering from cold or disgust, he doesn't know.

"Thank you, son." He knows he should be doing something but his eyes won't open and his whole body seems so heavy...

\---

Spike watches as the tiny shivers subside, leaving his dad completely slack and soon he is breathing heavy and evenly. He feels a bit cold despite the warm May afternoon. But then again, he is covered in sweat and ... yeah, there's that too. He dips a finger in the mess and licks it off. It tastes similar to his own , but not quite. Saltier and a bit thicker it seems. Not exactly the best thing he's ever had. Completely different than a girl. Well, that one girl. Sharon. She had been allowing some guys to feel her up for ten bucks behind the gym. All he could really feel was a lot of hair and some wetness. When he tried to reach further she had pushed him away, saying she wasn't "that" kind of girl, which was rather confusing, because that's what she seemed to be. As he walked away, ten dollars poorer, but not much wiser, he brought his fingers up to his face, first sniffing them and then tasting. Girls smell a bit like fish, he thinks, and taste.. well he can't really think of anything like it. Boys smell nicer, but the taste? He isn't so sure about that. But he supposes he could get used to it. Like olives.

His skin is dotted by goosebumps so he eases himself away from his dad's embrace, covers him up with a blanket and tiptoes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Shower-time usually means alone-time which means wank-time. But he doesn't really want to. First off, he's rather spent and second, his own hand seems rather inadequate after having felt his dad's warm mouth around him. Which makes him wonder how lacking it must have felt for his father. He said it was good, but then he kinda took over the whole thing, leaving Spike feeling rather un-needed. He raises his hand, studying it, curling the fingers, rubbing the thumb over an imagined cock. Angel's cock. It makes his hand look very small and the cock look really, really big. Which gets him thinking...

Reaching behind himself he searches for his entrance. It contracts as soon as he touches it and he can't push pass it without hurting, but just touching himself back there sends shivers down his spine. He feels a bit stupid, but it's better to be prepared at some rate for what is to happen eventually, whatever his dad says. So he pours some shampoo over his finger before reaching back again and this time it doesn't hurt. He gets it in up to his second knuckle but that's how far he can reach. It feels strange. Kinda good, but mostly strange. And very, very tight. How on earth is he ever going to make his dad's cock fit in there? Just the thought makes his heart beat faster and not from lust.

Popping his finger out again, he finishes showering under the cooling water. As he dries his body he studies it in the big mirror. All of him feels small. Even his cock which he was rather proud of, seems small compared to his dad's. His slender waist, his bony arms and legs. He turns around and tries to see how he would look to Angel, taking him from behind. Knotted spine, dimpled ass. Shoulder bones look awkward from the twist of his body, one scrunched, the other poking out. Why does Angel want him? Or does he really want him or just anyone? As far as he knows his dad hasn't been on a single date since his mom died. And that's almost three years. Maybe this isn't about Spike at all. Maybe this is just about Angel being lonely and needing sex?

But he doesn't want to think about that. Wrapping a towel around his waist he heads into his own room, where his bed looks narrow and uncomfortable. Well, if he gets any say in it, he won't be sleeping there anymore, so that's quite all right. Putting on some faded jeans and a thin worn orange t-shirt he walks back into the main bedroom. His dad is still out like a light so he starts searching the room as quietly as he can. They must be here somewhere. He knows Angel has some, because he's sneaked out and watched them from behind the couch, where his dad lies sprawled, jerking off while he's watching. He's heard the moans, seen the effect it has on Angel. He needs to know, needs to learn, if he's ever going to keep his dad happy.  
\---  
When Angel wakes up it is already dark outside. He's wrapped up in a blanket, but otherwise naked, and it takes him a minute to remember why. Spike. A whole lot of kissing and licking, and... that. And after that they had.. oh yeah. And suddenly it all comes rushing back to him. Oh God. He'd lost control over his need and ignored the boy's wish to please him. Instead he had just forced him to do it his way, like the kid wasn't good enough. And judging by how little he remembered after that, he probably went out like a light. No kiss, no snuggling, no reassuring words. Damn, he wasn't cut out for this. Women's sensitive post-coital emotions were nothing compared to a teenage boy's. And he had screwed it up big time. Damn, damn, damn.

Groggily he gets up and puts on a pair of sweats. Still no underwear. He really needs to do some washing. Later. Much later. He can hear the TV in the living room. Some music program, possibly MTV. Sounds familiar. After peeing he washes himself clean of crusted cum and brushes his teeth. Won't do to have bad breath if he's gonna kiss the boy and make up. Or out. It's not until he's closing the bathroom door behind him that he hears the moaning. And suddenly it hits him why the music sounds familiar. With a groan he stalks into the living room.

"What the hell are you watching?"

"Morning, dad. Or evening, really. Sleep well?"

The echo of his own words seems to mock him, but he doesn't back down. "I asked what you were watching."

"I'd think it was obvious? It's your stuff." And indeed it is. How the hell...?

"Ok, then. Why are you watching it?"

"Why do _you_ watch it?" Spike's voice is calm but Angel can detect a slight tremble to it.

"Do you answer every question with another?"

"Do you?" And at last the boy looks up, mouth set in a stubborn smirk.

"I give up. You win." Angel throws himself down on the couch, close enough for comfort if Spike wants to and far enough away if he doesn't. "So what's happening?"

"I think these two are married and then these three came over. Yeah, and that one is the pizza guy."

"Huh."

They sit watching for a while, the only sound heard are the fake moans and cries from the very fake people having embarrassingly fake sex.

"I think I'm gay."

Spike voice startles Angel out of his sex glazed mind and he looks over at the boy whose eyes won't leave the screen. Why couldn't he have one of these kids who don't share any of their thoughts with their parents?

"Just because we... it doesn't necessarily mean you're gay."

"I know. But I've been watching this for two hours and... nothing." He waves his hand toward his crotch where there is indeed nothing happening.

"Well, you know... this is not real. This is actually, I think, the worst porn I've ever seen." That earns him a small smile but still no eye contact.

"But all I have to do is think of you and..." A small movement can be detected under the denim. Somehow that small demonstration shuts the rest of Angel's mind off and he sits there, blank, eyes glued to the growing bulge.

"Do you have any gay porn?" Again Angel has to shake himself free from the daze he seems to be in.

"What? Why do you presume...?" His son looks at him with that slight head tilt that makes him so delicious and he can't pretend. "I'll find it." He stumbles to his feet, his erection making walking a bit of a trial. Into the bedroom and then moving aside his clothes in the closet. He can see that the tapes have been moved around and freezes when he sees a tape marked A/A. Oh God, if the boy had accidentally taken that one. Blushing from the thought he searches for a better hiding place, finally putting it behind some shoes. He'll have to find a better place later. Or better yet, burn it.

Rummaging through the stash he finally finds two tapes that he seems to recall are quite all right. None of the gay tapes are actually marked as such. "Super bowl 1985" and "Presidential election 1993" these two say. A safe way to never be touched by anyone else.

Wondering how this is gonna go, he walks back into the living room and pops the first one in. Settling back on the couch as the first images starts flickering he looks over at the kid. Maybe this will be too scary for him. After all, they show... everything. And if he remembers correctly there's even a bit of spanking... Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But just when he's about to suggest they just rent a decent movie instead, Spike slides across and snuggles into his arms, resting his head on his shoulder.

The story isn't the greatest, but then again this is porn made for men. Just as when he was watching the other one, it isn't really holding Angel's interest. The warm body pressing into his, the slender arm around his waist, the soft hair brushing against his chin. Those are things that make him close his eyes and feel the heat going to his groin. He knows Spike can see his arousal, loose sweats will do that to you, so he isn't very surprised when the hand moves away from his naked waist and down. He opens his eyes and meets the adoration in his son's eyes, mixed with a hint of fear. He bows down and they kiss, first slowly, then with increasing passion. Angel lays back and Spike crawls up his body until he's lying on top of him, their hips grinding, hardness to hardness. When Angel grabs Spike's denim clad ass, his buttocks fit perfectly into his hands. The kiss gets more heated and Spike starts thrusting down on him, seeking further friction. Angel can feel himself loosing control again, he longs to rip the boy's pants off and dig his fingers into his soft flesh. Instead he covers him in kisses down his neck and nibbles lightly, earning a loud gasp from his son. He moves his hands up and under the t-shirt, pinching the hard nipples. As he feels the boy stiffen he grabs his ass again and thrusts his hard cock against Spike's hard and fast. Bucking wildly Spike comes with a soft cry and that's enough to make Angel come in his pants. Something he hasn't done since high school.

They lie together, panting, when a loud noise makes them both look at the TV at the same time. Oh shit.

"I think it's time for bed."

"Yeah."


	9. Chapter 9

_He waits until he can hear her breathing slowing down, settling into an even rhythm before changing into light snores. Careful not to disturb her he slides out of bed and tiptoes out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He knows this is wrong, but it's not like he's doing anything. Not really. Just watching. The boy's room is just a few feet down the hall, door ajar, nightlight glowing through the crack. He takes a deep breath before pushing the door slightly more open. There he is. So beautiful. One hand resting on his pillow, the other dangling off the edge. The heavy duvet covers him only partially. Angel can see a bony knee, one white buttock, most of his smooth back. He's lying on his side, breathing evenly, his upturned eye moving rapidly behind it's lid._

_Suddenly he whimpers and frowns before twisting his whole body around in his dream. Angel can't help the sharp intake of breath as the boy is splayed out in all his glory. Soft and limp, smooth and hairless. After all he's only ten. But God, how beautiful. Slowly Angel reaches out his hand..._

The sharp ringing in his ear makes him lash out and the phone crashes to the floor. It takes him two more rings before he realizes what the sound is and he picks it up, pushes the button and growls a hoarse 'What?' into the receiver.

"Hello? This is at Roosevelt High School. We were just ringing to check up on William, he seems to be missing this morning."

"What? Oh, sh... Sorry, we overslept." Angel looks frantically at the clock. 9:30 AM. Too damn lucky he's not working today.

"Who's that?" A sleep ruffled Spike is about to kiss him when Angel quickly covers his mouth with a swift move.

"Who is that? Is William there with you?" The before polite voice on the phone suddenly sounds sharp and suspicious.

"Eh..." (Think, dammit, think!) "We fell asleep in front of the TV last night. I promise to never have a Star Wars marathon on a school night again." He tries to keep his voice cheerful and apologetic and it seems to work because the woman laughs with him. "I'll get him over there on the double. Thank you for calling. I really appreciate how dedicated the school is to its students."

"No problem. Just doing our job. Goodbye, sir." As the phone clicks off, Angel falls back on the bed, heart beating wildly. He looks over at the boy who is staring at him with big blue eyes, biting his lower lip.

" _That_ was your school. And you just about told them we're sleeping in the same bed." He doesn't mean to be so harsh, but the small possibility that she didn't buy his story is nearly freaking him out.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I didn't mean to." Spike hangs his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand before sliding off the bed. Oh fuck.

"Will... Spike, it's not your fault, I'm sorry. She just really scared me. We have to be so careful, you know that."

"Yeah." Still not looking at him, back turned, shoulder hunched, naked and thin and so very, very young.

"Come here." Angel extends a hand toward the boy and he walks over and into his dad's embrace, a slight shiver running through his body. "Daddy's fault for not setting the alarm and daddy is really, really sorry." Everytime he says the d-word the shivering intensifies and he can feel the boy hardening. "Now be a good boy and get dressed and when you get back home, daddy will be waiting for you." He grins when he hears the slight gasp. Looks like he's found his son's kink.

\---------------

There's no time for breakfast or showers. Five minutes later they're in the car, heading for school. This time Angel doesn't hide his glances and his hand is resting in Spike's lap. The boy still looks ruffled, hair messed up, the collar twisted. His eyes are closed and Angel would think he'd dozed off if it weren't for the twitch in his pants. When they get to the school Angel looks around before drawing him into a tight hug, tugging at his hair and giving him a quick but deep kiss before letting him go.

"You run along now, son. Daddy will be thinking of you all day." And he drives away, leaving Spike standing on the sidewalk, flushed and panting.

\------------

The day goes slowly by. He uses part of it in the mall, spending a ridiculous amount of money. Some on things they need; food, toiletpaper, lube. Some on things he just plainly wants. Each item that catches his eye makes him wonder if Spike would like it. By the time he gets back to his car he is painfully hard and all he can think about is his son. Sitting in school, gnawing on his pencil, talking to the other kids, being eyed up by some young athletic football player in the shower. His fingers grip the wheel hard and he honks his horn at some unlucky slow driver. Damn! Bet that school is full of gay guys. Young, horny, pick-up-my-soap guys. Guys who'll ask his boy to parties, get him drunk and...

Maybe he should look into home tutoring?

The thought of someone else touching his precious boy makes him growl with anger and jealousy. Checking his watch he decides to drive by the school. The boy should be getting out around now. They could take a ride, or just go straight home and...

Somehow, without even seeing him, he knows Spike is in the middle of the group of boys shouting and kicking. Maybe it is the yells of 'fucking fag' or the blue backpack cast aside on the grass. Maybe it's instinct. He's up on the sidewalk and out of the car so fast they don't know what hit them. Tossing the closest ones aside he is faced with a bruised and dirty William. His shirt is torn, his lip split, his face muddied from being pressed to the ground. The big bully that is currently kicking him in the ribs doesn't even have time to look up before he's grabbed by the hair and thrown to the ground. The group quickly disperses, leaving the three of them alone; Angel on his knees by his son's side, Spike gasping for air, the punk scrambling away. Without giving the fucker a second glance Angel picks his boy up and puts him gently in the car.

"Sshh, baby. Try to take deep breaths. We'll be home in a few minutes."

All the way home he keeps checking on the boy. His breathing starts returning to normal, only to be replaced with sobs. As soon as they have parked he's on the other side, lifting his son as gently as he can, and carrying him inside. He lays him on the bed and can't help thinking of the last time he did this, and that was only two days ago. Spike curls up on his side, still sobbing loudly, flinching away from his dad's touch.

"You have to let me look at you. I promise not to hurt you. Please, baby, let daddy look at you."

He doesn't know if it's the word again, though used in completely different circumstances, but the boy nods and allows him to slowly undress him. His upper body has quite a few bruises but as far as Angel can tell there is no more serious damage. His lip is still bleeding, as well as a small cut on the back of his head. The removal of his pants reveals bruised thighs. All the while Angel keeps talking to him, reassuring him, kissing his bruises. He knows he should report this, he should take the boy straight to the emergency room and have them take pictures. But then they will question what happened and why. And once the boy starts talking...

Finally he has done all he can. Stripping off his clothes, he lies down on the bed, pulling Spike into his embrace as gently as he can. As the boy shivers he pulls a blanket over both of them.

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Why...?"

"No." Spike's breathing quickens and a small sob escapes his lips.

"All right, You don't have to if you don't want to. But it will make you feel better getting it off your chest."

"I said no!"

"Okay, okay. Whatever you want." They lie together in silence, Angel absentmindedly stroking the soft curls, some of which are still matted with blood and dirt.

"They called me a fag, a fucking homo." Spike starts trembling, fighting the tears. Angel lies quiet, sensing that this is something the boy has to deal with at his own pace.

"Said all Brits were lily-white homos and I should go back home. Said I was disgusting and... and they'd stick a bottle up my arse. That they bet I''d like it. That I'd be begging to suck them off." Suddenly he panics. "I didn't tell them anything! I swear, daddy! I swear!" And he starts crying again, heavy sobs filled with anguish.

"Sshh, baby. I know you didn't." Kissing the boy's tear stained face he tries to keep calm, even if he's almost trembling with rage. "This wasn't your fault. They're just ignorant bullies, that's all. They couldn't know. And even if you told everyone at school you were gay, they still have no right saying these things. And certainly no right to beat you up. Fuck those bastards! If you tell me their names I'll stick some bottles so far up their asses, they'll never find them again."

"Promise?" The boy is still sniffling, but the worst shock seems to have past. Angel hugs him as tight as he dares and nuzzles his neck.

"You watch me."

"Shove bottles up their arses?" He can feel the boy smiling and his heart leaps. Maybe they will get pass this, after all.

"Yep. But you know the biggest homophobes are the ones who are still in the closet."

"They are?" Spike giggles and turns his head to kiss him, only wincing slightly as Angel brushes against his bruised lip.

"You bet." Again they lie in silence but it is more relaxed and every now and then they share a soft kiss.

"If you're gay, why did you marry mum?" Even though Angel had been anticipating the question at one time or another, it still makes him jump.

"I loved her, you know I did. I still do. And I'm not strictly gay, I'm more bi really."

"By? By what?" The confused voice makes him sound so young (child, little child). Some memory starts tugging at the corner of Angel's brain but it slides away before he can grasp it.

"Bi-sexual. It means I'm interested in both girls and guys."

"Oh. I didn't know that. So I might be that too?" The slight hope in the small voice is breaking Angel's heart

"Maybe. How do you feel about girls?"

"They smell like fish." His scrunched up nose is so adorable Angel can't help smiling.

"What?"

"Their... parts. They smell like fish."

"When did you smell their 'parts'?" What on earth has his boy been up to?

"Just once. One girl. I paid her ten dollars."

"To smell her?" He's beginning to think his son might have other kinks he didn't know about.

"No, dad." Spike sighs at his father's clueless mind. "To ... feel her. Down there."

"A girl let you feel her up for ten bucks? Bet she has a nick name." Angel could remember a few girls like that when he was a kid. He's picked more than one of them up on the streets in the years since. Not that any of them remembered him, bless his luck.

"Yeah. I think she's called Ronnie." His father spurt of laughter makes him look up frowning. "What?"

"Nothing, son. Nothing at all." And he pulls him closer, spooning the boy's small body.

Again they settle into comfortable silence. Angel lets his hands roam under the blanket, stroking the soft skin. The boy presses in to him and turns his head to reach his dad's lips. They kiss gently at first Angel being scared of hurting him further, but it is soon clear that Spike will have none of that. He seems to need some sort of confirmation that this is real, that he is indeed loved for what he is, who he is. His velvety tongue feels feverish. It sneaks into every corner of Angel's mouth, exploring, seeking . It makes his blood speed up and his cock rock hard. He reaches around the boy and finds him in similar state. As soon as he wraps his fingers around him the boy moans almost painfully and presses his back further into his dad. At the first tugs his hips thrust forward and then back, making his ass collide with Angel's cock. For a second he freezes but then he starts pressing harder against the leaking member, making it slide in between his cheeks.

"Spike, don't. No. Stop. Stop!"

"No please, daddy. I want it. I want it so much."

"We can't. You're not ready, son."

"Don't you want me, daddy? Please!"

By now the tip is at the tight entrance and it is so tempting, so very, very tempting. With a shudder Angel pulls away, ignoring his son's disappointed whimpers. Turning him over he kisses the boy deeply before forcing him to look up.

"Not yet. Listen to me. If we're ever going to do this it has to be done right. And this is not the way to do it right. Do you understand me?"

"Daddy! Please! I need you."

"You'll have me. But not like this. Wait here." He kisses the boy once again before standing up and reaching for his jacket, draped over a chair since earlier. From the right side pocket he pulls a tube of KY-jelly.

"Lie back and pull your knees up."

The boy is so eager his dimpled knees are up at his chin in seconds, leaving his virgin entrance on display. The pretty sight is almost enough to make Angel come on the spot, but he takes a deep breath and manages to calm down. Crawling onto the big bed he sits down on his heels between his son's slender thighs. They are already shivering in anticipation.

"Now be good for daddy." The sharp tremble makes him smile. Oh, yes. Clearly a kink. "Put your hands above your head and grip the railings. And don't let go until daddy tels you to, ok?" The boy nods and obediently lifts his arms, wrapping his fingers around the iron railings of the headboard. He closes his eyes and his lips part slightly. A pink tongue darts out to moisten them and the stiff cock is leaking precum onto his soft belly.

God, he looks fuckable. Angel has to restrain himself from telling his scruples to go to hell and pounce on the boy, thrusting inside, and fuck him into the mattress. Instead he gets down on his belly and lets his tongue lick over the pink rose. The boy almost shoots of the bed, but he doesn't let go of the railings. His thighs are trembling so hard, the whole bed is shaking.

"You like that? Want daddy to do it again?"

"Yes, please daddy. Do it again, please!" Now how can he refuse such a nice begging? With swift sweeps of his tongue he licks the boy again and again. Then he gently presses his tongue inside. Spike cries out but Angel keeps him down, wrapping his arms around his legs. He starts fucking the tight hole with his tongue, each time plunging a little deeper. The boy is writhing and moaning, but still he keeps his hands in place, knuckles white, arms trembling. Never leaving his task, Angel reaches for the lube, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers. He rubs them together to heat it up a little before sitting up and slowly inserting one finger. This time Spike can't hold on any longer. He slams his hands down on the bed, clawing at the sheets as he chants for daddy, over and over.

Angel moves the finger in and out slowly a few times before curling it, searching for that special spot. Then he bows forward, swallowing the boy down as he nudges it firmly. With a scream Spike fills his mouth before passing out. 


	10. Chapter 10

He's only out for minute or two, but Angel can't help feeling guilty as hell. And a little proud, which makes him feel even more guilty. The boy looks confused, then embarrassed but finally he looks up at his dad, wonder in his eyes.

"What happened? What did you do? That was... incredible." He gives his dad a long wet kiss, before drawing away, panting, eyes dark with re-newed lust.

"Was it good? Was it good for you, baby?" Angel nibbles at his son neck, enjoying the shivers that evokes. "Did you like what daddy did to you?"

"Yeah. That was... wow!" The astounded look on his face is so adorable Angel can't help chuckling. "Can we do it again?"

"Give your old man a break. I haven't had this much sex since..." Too late he bites his tongue. The silence is awkward and strained and where's a hole in the ground when you need one? Slowly Spike pulls away from him and eases himself off the bed.

"Since mum."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't thinking." Angel reaches for him but he walks away to the window, staring out at the rain that is now pouring down.

"Well, it's true, innit? You haven't been with anyone since... Is that what this is about?" The voice sounds sad and Angel tries to read the small face reflected in the glass but the drops catch the light and make him appear rippled and un-human. "You being lonely? Needing... someone."

It takes him a moment to figure out what his son means but then it stings his heart and he jumps up and hurries to him, wrapping the slender frame in his arms.

"Oh, baby. Don't think that. Never think that. I wasn't lonely. I always had you."

He buries his face in the soft hair, inhaling Spike's unique scent. Like summer nights and roasted chestnuts. Slowly he turns the boy around, pressing the pale face against his chest, watching the drops of rain trickle down the glass as his skin gets damp.

\------------

The rest of the day is spent in leisure. Reading, cuddling, watching tv, kissing. They put their heads together and cook a casserole. Crunchy rice and chewy meat, but it still makes them feel more like a real family. Once again Spike falls asleep in front of the television and once again Angel carries him into his bed. It feels so right somehow. And how wrong is that?

_"Daddy! Daddy! Look at me!" William laughs as he runs sideways along the beach, eyes fixed on the kite flying high above him. "I'm flying, I'm flying."_

Angel laughs with him, his arm slung across Annie's shoulders. Smiling he looks on as the boy runs out into the ocean, further and further until all he can see is his blond hair and waving arms.

"Do you think he's all right? Maybe I should check on him."

"Maybe you should just let him drown."

Startled he looks at Annie, but she's smiling and waving to the boy, ignoring his cries of help.

"Better he die now, innocent and pure. Don't you think?"

And she looks at him, her blue eyes (Spike's eyes) filled with red tears. He stares at her and then back at the sea. The boy is gone, nothing but blue water as far as the eye can see.

"Perhaps," he answers. As he watches, the waves bring the small body back to land.

\------

For once they wake up on time. Angel had told the boy he could stay home if he wanted to, but Spike had refused. It made his dad feel proud that he wouldn't be bullied into submission, but he couldn't help worrying about those boys. Maybe he should drive by during his shift. Keep the bastards on their toes. With a promise to pick him up as soon as school was over he gave the boy a tight hug and a quick kiss before heading off.

\------

It's always tough. Especially the young ones. He can't help shuddering as he looks down at the body, soaked in blood-red water. She couldn't be much older than Spike. Why on earth would she do this to herself? As the crime team and investigators arrive he slips out and lits a cigarette with trembling fingers. Not a regular smoker, but keeps them near for just such an occasion. Half an hour later Martha comes out, patting him gently on the arm. They've been partners long enough to read each other well. Besides, she knows all about Annie and Spike. Well, not all...

"You all right?" She snags the cigarette from his fingers and takes a long drag before handing it back.

"Yeah. It's just, you know, what was she? Fourteen? Fifteen? Why would a girl so young kill herself? She's just a child." Like Spike. An innocent child. He closes his eyes and wills the guilt away once again. Shoves it into that dark room, slams the door and turns the key.

"Well, apparently she was pregnant. Or so it looks. At least four months."

"Oh God. The parents know who...?" The mother's wailing coming from the bedroom, the father's blank look of utter confusion.

"No. They say she wasn't seeing anyone. But then again, parents are usually the last to know. Man, just the thought of a 14 year old having sex. I mean, I know they do but God, can you imagine being pregnant at that age? Her whole life probably seemed like it was over. And now it is. It's just so sad. Kids should be kids as long as they can, you know? Once they start there's just no turning back."

He can't look at her. He's sure that if he meets her eyes she will know. Because there's no way he can hide his guilt. Instead he just says "Yeah." and grinds out his cigarette, before lightning another one, knowing she will be looking at him with disapproval.

"So how is your son? Any girls yet?"

She is trying to lighten the mood, which is pretty futile as they step aside to let the coroner pass, but for a moment he panics. All their years together he has never lied to her. She saw him off to his first date with Annie. She'd been there at their wedding. She'd been there at her funeral. She had actually been the one to tell him the news of Annie's death even though it hadn't been her shift. She's laughed with him and cried with him. The best friend he's ever had. And she would lock him up faster than you can say 'pedophile' if she knew.

"No. He's rather shy."

And gay. But he hesitates to tell her that. What if she starts asking questions and he knows just a bit too much about his son's orientation? What if she decides it's bad for a single man to live with a gay stepson? He knows she would never think that, but in his paranoia he feels unsure about everything. And besides if she did, she would be right.

"You never know. He's such a charmer he probably has lots of girls eyeing him." She elbows him playfully and he tries to give her a smile but it feels false and he's sure she can see through him.

"No."

"I find that hard to believe. Sure he's just not to embarrassed to tell you? Cute boy like that..."

"I said no!" Angry he flips the cigarette into the air and re-enters the house leaving her looking confused and hurt in the sun.

\---------------------------

By the time he is off and waiting outside the school he has pushed today's events away in his mind. One more thing to hide behind that door. It almost feels physical to him. Like that elephant in the room. He knows it's there but he pretends it isn't. But still he can almost reach out and touch it. Grab the knob, turn the key and ....

"Hi dad." Spike's cheerful voice makes him jump in his seat. It feels so good to see him, he wishes he could hold him tight and kiss him right there and then. Make his sweet innocence chase away his own darkness. But the area is full of school kids and parents, so he only gives him a smile and waits until they are far enough from the crowd before he pulls the boy towards him, placing a light kiss on his head. The soft hair smells of sunshine and that distinct odor of high school.

"Yeah, yeah. Missed you too." The boy laughs and elbows him lightly in the side ("He's such a charmer he probably has lots of girls eyeing him.") "So what are we gonna do?"

"I don't know." Smile. Step away from the door and smile. "What do you want to do?"

"Can we go to the cinema? Please?" Angel doesn't know if he's batting his eyelashes on purpose or if he just happens to really be that adorable. Whichever it is he feels his mood lighten and he laughs as the boy kisses his cheek in excitement as he nods. They catch an early show, stock up on pop corn and coke and sit down farthest back. It's his height. The kids always complain about his head being in the way. That's all.

He doesn't really pay that much attention to the movie. Could be that it's just not really his thing, could be the warm hand that keeps sliding into his lap. After a while he looks around to confirm that no one else is in their row, before he slips his hand over. The buttons pop open easily and once again he congratulates himself on his lousy housekeeping as he is met with warm naked flesh. He can hear a slight gasp but he doesn't look at the boy, just eases his hand further inside, his buttery fingers stroking tenderly down the shaft. Spike shifts in his seat, spreading his legs and sliding further down. His head lolls to the side and ends up resting on Angel's shoulder. He turns to him and the boy's hot mouth seizes him hungrily. Salt and butter and lust so raw his cock starts pulsing in rhythm with the loud music. His pants feel like a prison and he almost groans out loud when a small hand drags down the zipper and releases him. Hot sticky fingers encircle him in a tight grip and start pumping with force. ("Dad likes it... hard.") As the kiss deepens their movements become more frantic. The boy makes him feel so good, only faltering a few times when his own pleasure becomes too intense. The bucket of popcorn falls to the floor, the sound drowned by the gunshots. When the boat explodes on the movie screen Angel smother's the boy's cry with his mouth as they add to the white spilling on the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

_The boy is incredibly pale. The skin seems paper thin, showing blue veins under the surface. As he watches, they too empty into the tub and slowly the body seems to shrivel until all that is left is a dried up mummy, floating in the red water. A heavy hand grabs his shoulder and he turns around, staring straight into Martha’s accusing eyes._

_“Why did you do this to him?”_

_He tries to deny but she nods toward his hand and that’s when he notices the bloody razor. As in a trance he watches the red drops fall to the floor, gathering into a river._

 

As time goes by they fall into an easy rhythm. Mornings are hurried, only allowing them a brief kiss and some cuddling before it’s off to school and work. As soon as Angel is off duty he drives to Spike’s school, scanning the area, making sure no one is bothering his boy at recess, then waits until the final bell releases him into his custody. Then they either spend time at the mall, the movies or some other painfully public place, but more often they head straight home, tumble in the door and hardly have time to shut it behind them before they are all over each other.

Angel crushes his lips onto Spike’s, tugging at his hair, the boy eagerly sucking on his tongue and falling to his knees as soon as he feels the pressure on his shoulder. Slender, still fumbling fingers loose the belt, and unzip the pants. He is slowly growing in confidence, but he still can’t manage to deep throat, no matter how much his dad tries to coach him. Sometimes he finishes him off there, sometimes Angel hauls him up on his feet and rushes him into the bedroom, pushes him on the bed and kisses and strokes the lean body, his hard cock sliding between the trembling thighs, leaving a trail of pre-cum on the fair skin. Spike pushes up against him, whimpering when their erections touch, spreading his legs in an effort to bring his dad closer, deeper.

Every time they get to _that_ point, the threshold of entering, Angel pulls back, taking deep breaths to calm down. Spike’s pleas and thrusting hips aren’t exactly helping, but he just isn’t ready to go there yet. Like there’s a tiny bit of moral still inside him holding on to the idea that as long as they don’t take that step, it is all right. No one is getting hurt; nothing he can’t fix is being broken.

They end up with mutual blowjobs, some rimming or fisting and finally they lie exhausted in each other’s arms, sweaty and stained, occasional finger-shaped bruises on slim hips and shoulders. At first Angel panicked that they would cause suspicion at the boy’s school, but so far they have gone unnoticed and no matter how hard he tries he just can’t help gripping a little bit tighter, pushing his finger into the tender flesh, marking it as his.

After a short nap evenings are spent doing homework and watching TV. Playing footsy under the table at dinner, feeding bits of food to one another like a romantic couple at a restaurant. Soaping each other down in the shower or stroking wet flesh in the bath. When they get sleepy they snuggle up against each other in the big bed, kissing and nibbling until they either get sweaty again or settle down and fall asleep.

Life has never been so good.

\-----------

Angel is finding it harder and harder to concentrate at work. For one thing, he worries about Spike at school, with him not there to protect him. He starts thinking about switching over to security; he knows the school has guards, don’t they all these days? That way he could keep an eye on the boy, make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.

Another thing bothering him is Martha. After being his closest friend for so long he finds it incredibly hard not being able to confide in her. And it seems that no matter what they are talking about, words will jump out at him, reminding him of a certain touch, a certain feeling. Then he stiffens, draws back and changes the subject, much to Martha’s frustration. He catches her looking at him, a thoughtful frown on her face. A few times she has asked him what is wrong but he just laughs and tells her everything is great. And it is, right?

It seems they’ve never had so many cases of juvenile crimes. It turns out that girl from the other day had been impregnated by her own father. The look of bewilderment on the man’s face as he was brought in, made Angel wonder what he’d thought would happen. That they would live happily ever after in their little ménage-trois? As the devastated mother is giving a statement, Martha brings him a cup of coffee, straining to keep her emotions back. The look on her face tells more than a thousand words.  
  
And that is just the beginning. Abused children, all to many times dead or so broken they might as well be, keep popping up on his shifts, like God is shoving the horror in his face. He really enjoys putting the handcuffs on the bastards they manage to catch, tightening them around their wrists until they yell out, then silencing them with a quick punch in the stomach or a kick in their balls. If Martha notices his increased brutality, she doesn’t mention it. After all she hates those fuckers as much as he does. Each time he leaves them in their cells, making sure to mention out loud what they’re in for, he feels a touch of satisfaction. But still their victims pray on his mind. No wonder he isn’t sleeping well.

\------------

“Dad?”

They are laying in bed, still shivering from their respective orgasms, Angel’s fingers running through the boy’s hair. Spike shifts and looks up at his dad’s face, planting a light kiss on the stubbled chin. For a moment he wonders when his own will start growing. He knows many of the boys in his class shave already, they make a big show of doing it in the shower after gym. Spike hates gym. He tries his best, not to draw attention to himself. Sometimes it works, most times not. He doesn’t want to worry his dad though, but lets him think the bruises are all from _his_ hands or, if they’re out of place, accidents from the harsh play of football. He can take it. What do some shoves and kicks matter when he has this to come home to? But still he wishes he had more friends at school. Which is why he is so excited about this weekend.

“Uhum.”

“There’s this party, at Danny’s house, on Friday. Can I go? Please? I promise I won’t stay too late and I won’t drink even if the others do, which I’m sure they won’t and you can drive me over there and pick me up and…”

He can hear the words rushing out of his mouth, but he wants his dad to hear him out, even when he feels the strong body stiffening beside him. The hand stills, fingers gripping his hair a little tighter, and Angel sits up, towering over the nervous boy.

“Party? I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Who is that boy anyway?”

“He’s in my class. He’s in a band.” Realising that is probably not the best argument, he flashes his father the puppy eyes, and hugs him tight. “It’s the first time I’ve been invited to anything. Please, dad? I promise I’ll behave.”

Conflicting emotions are battling within him, and for a moment Angel stares at Spike who looks more and more desperate as the seconds pass. The thought of his beautiful boy, in the proximity of drunk teenagers, slutty girls and horny boys, makes him want to lock him in his room, or better yet, chain him to their bed. But a small part of his brain, the part that isn’t consumed by possessiveness and jealousy, recognises the need for peer acceptance in his son’s eyes. And as much as he hates it, that’s what wins out in the end.

“No drinking, no smoking and if you see any drugs you call me ASAP. Got it?”

“Thank you, dad. I won’t let you down.” Spike hugs him tighter, feeling giddy and nervous at the same time.

“I know you won’t. And Spike?” He grabs the boy’s chin, hard enough to hurt, light enough to leave him unmarked (never the face), forcing him to look him in the eyes. “ **No one** touches you.”

He can feel a small shiver running through the boy’s body and for a second he regrets his brutality but that’s just another emotion that fits so nicely into his dark room. Suddenly he doesn’t feel like cuddling anymore. Releasing his grip he ignores the tears glimmering in his son’s eyes and goes into the bathroom, turning the shower on. It doesn’t take long before the boy joins him, dropping to his knees on the hard tiles, his hot tongue showing his gratitude. After he’s done Angel pulls him up and kisses him fiercely, then takes him back to bed, still wet from the shower and whispers ‘I love you, I love you, Oh God, Will, I love you so much’ as he covers him with kisses.


	12. Chapter 12

The rest of the week he seems to spend an awful lot of time on his knees. Not that he minds, even though they do hurt a little, but that’s all right as long as he’s rewarded with kisses and cuddles. His dad is not quite as loving as usual though. He seems irritated and more than once snaps at him for no apparent reason. It gets to the point that Spike considers not going to that party, he’ll just stay at home, doing whatever his daddy wants. But he just really longs to go, so instead he tries his best to keep his dad happy. And nothing makes daddy as happy as his boy’s hot mouth sucking him.

As Friday approaches Angel gets more and more apprehensive about the whole thing. He remembers his own high school parties, drinking beer, smoking joints, making out with whoever caught his fancy. Come Friday morning he’s on edge and when Spike’s about to step out of the car he grabs him and crushes their lips together so hard that when he finally releases the boy, there’s blood on his lips. But Spike only smiles and licks it off before heading for the big building, leaving Angel with a tight knot in his stomach.

Halfway to work, he swears, swings the car around on screeching tires and digs the cell-phone out of his pocket. Some coughs later he is officially off sick and parked discreetly with a good view of school campus. The day drags slowly by. Every time the bell rings his stomach flutters and he starts sweating. Gripping the binoculars he’s been keeping in the glove department ever since this all started he watches the kids come out, straining eyes trying to catch a glimpse of honey coloured curls. And each time his boy comes into view his stomach is again in a clench as he observes Spike’s movements. Fortunately he seems to spend most of his time alone, although Angel can see quite a few girls looking at him, giggling and whispering to each other. Damn whores. Just the kind he’ll be picking up on the streets in a few years.

Finally school is over and the place fills up with kids, shouting, laughing, holding hands. It takes him a while to spot Spike in the endless sea of teenagers but when he does his heart nearly stops. He’s walking slowly chatting happily away with some pesky little red-haired boy. A boy who keeps slapping his son on the arm and grinning at him like he’s got rights. Angel has to restrain himself from jumping out of the car and punching the brat from here to Hellville. Instead he starts the car and drives a short swing before coming back to the school ground looking like he’s just arrived.

Spike waves at him and exchanges a last few words with his friend (Thought he didn’t have any friends?) before running to the car and hopping in. Giving Angel a quick peck on the cheek he waves again, this time to the scrawny little kid who gives him a big smile and the peace sign as they drive off. It isn’t until he turns to smile at his dad that he notices the tension in his face.

“Dad, is everything all right?” He reaches out to him but Angel turns away leaving his hand in midair. Slowly he pulls it back, feeling his stomach tightening.

“Who was that boy?” The cold voice send shivers down Spike’s spine. Why is he so scared? He didn’t do anything wrong, did he?

“Danny. The one I told you about. You know, the one who’s throwing the party tonight.”

“How well do you know him?” He doesn’t look at his son, doesn’t want to see if he’s hiding something from him.

“He transferred here two weeks ago. He’s nice to me.” What is happening here? Why is he…?

“How nice?”

“What?”

“I said: how nice is he? Does he talk to you at recess? Does he help you with your homework? Does he jerk you off behind the gym? How fucking nice is he?” This time he does look at him, eyes black with anger.

“Why are you…?” Trembling he tries again to touch his dad’s face but his hand is swat away angrily.

“How **fucking NICE?!** ” Spike stares at him in shock, but then anger gets hold of him too.

“He’s the first one who’s talked to me since we bloody well moved here, all right? The only one who doesn’t call me a fag or a freak. The only one who stands up to them and stops them from beating the hell out of me. He’s **nice**! What’s wrong with you?”

He’s thrown to the sides as the car swerves and stops abruptly off-road. His anger and shame quickly makes way for fear and he sits silently, biting his lip, stealing glances at the man next to him. His dad is rigid, knuckles white at the steering wheel. Spike almost jumps his height when he suddenly hits it hard with the palms of his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to wo… worry you.” His lower lip is trembling, thick drops of salty water rolling down his face.

“Worry me? You didn’t want to **worry** me? I’m your father, dammit! It’s my fucking job to worry about you. How could you…?” Finally he turns to his son, stopping abruptly when the boy flinches away from him in fear. “Oh God, Will. I’m so sorry.” Pulling the boy into his arms he holds him as the thin body shakes with sobs. “I’m so very sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just saw you with him and I thought…”

“He’s just m…my friend. I, I just love you, da… daddy.”

“I know, baby, I know. Daddy just got jealous. Please, baby. Don’t cry. I’m not mad. I love you, son. Daddy loves you so much.”

He lifts the boy’s chin tenderly, wiping away the tears with his fingers. Big blue eyes stare at him, face puffy, lips flushed and trembling. And he can’t help it. He seizes them with his own, tasting the salt, feeling the heat. The boy kisses him back with desperation, clinging to him like a drowning man to a straw, frantic hands roaming over his chest, reaching for the belt of his dad’s pants.

“We can’t, not here… Oh God!”

Feverish fingers stroking him, pulling at him, rubbing him. Warm mouth sucking hard on his tongue before letting go and diving down, engulfing him in heat and wetness. Angel doesn’t know if it’s the cars going by, many containing other parents driving their kids home, or the tiny sobs that vibrate around his cock as the boy finally takes him all in and swallows him down, fighting the need to gag, but he comes harder than ever before.

He leans back, listening to his heart slowing down to normal as the boy licks him clean, still snivelling. For a long time they remain there, Spike with his head in daddy’s lap, shallow breaths grating through his injured throat.

\---------

They are parked outside a plain looking house on the beach. The kind that hasn’t seen a paint brush in decades, but the vines and the flowers never the less gives it a look of a place of care. There’s music coming from inside and they can see shadows playing behind the curtains.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, dad. Don’t worry. I won’t drink, I won’t smoke and I promise I won’t snog anyone. I’m saving all my kisses for you.”

That last part he says with a teasing smile, knowing that Angel will be humming the song before he’s out the driveway. His dad gives him a smile back and ruffles his hair, his grin getting bigger as Spike tries to comb it back the way it took him half an hour to arrange before they left.

“You better. Now run along. And remember to call me when you want to come home. You have my cell, right? And watch out for those bullies, stay close to Danny if it looks like there’s gonna be trouble. And if I don’t hear from you before midnight, I’m busting in there with sirens and everything, you got that, mister?”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too, dad.”

Smiling he gets out of the car, but Angel can see the tension in his face, as he licks his dry lips. Damn. He wants to drag the boy back into the car and drive him home. Instead he watches with a heavy heart as Spike takes a deep breath and walks up to the house, only looking back once to wave at him. Angel follows him longingly with his gaze. The faded jeans, the dark-red t-shirt, if no one comes onto him tonight, those kids have a serious problem. Then again, if they do come on to him, they have a very serious problem.

Angel stays until the boy’s knocks are answered and he sees Danny greeting him amiably, letting him in. For a moment he contemplates staying there all night, but he knows Spike will check that he’s gone in a minute or two. Of course he could move the car and sneak back. Those bushes look… Shaking his head, he backs out of the driveway. What’s he thinking? He’s not a stalking psycho. Absentmindedly he starts humming as he drives homeward.

When he gets home the house seems incredibly quiet. He wanders aimlessly from room to room, picturing Spike sprawled on the sofa in the living room, dozing off in the bath, moaning and shuddering on the bed. Groaning he goes to the liqueur cabinet and fetches a bottle of whiskey. Not bothering with a glass he walks into their bedroom, strips and lies down. Enjoying the burning of the strong liquid down his throat he brings Spike’s pillow to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of his hair. Sighing he puts it back down and takes another sip. Can’t drink too much, though. Spike might need him. What if…? Sipping slowly from the bottle he gives into his imagination.

\------

Spike has never been in such a cool place his entire life. There are plants everywhere, and strange paintings of naked people in all sorts of colours. For a moment he stares fixated on a big oil painting above the sofa, showing a green and blue big-breasted woman, who looks like she’s giving birth to a purple car. He knows he shouldn’t stare, it’s probably rude, but man, he’s never seen anything like it.

“Strange, huh? Mom says it’s Mother Earth being invaded by the evil industrialism. But then again it could be a self-portrait through a wisp of smoke.”

“Your mum painted this? It’s amazing!”

“You think?” Danny looks relieved, like he had anticipated a mockery. “I better not show you the one they have in their bedroom, though. Lets just say I don’t worry about what I’ll see when I walk in on them having sex anymore.” The boys look at each other and shudder before bursting out laughing.

The evening flies by. There are very few kids from school there. Instead Spike finds himself chatting to college kids about music and movies he’s never heard of. And none of them laugh at him, not even when he doesn’t know half of their idols and thinks Kafka is a rock group. He keeps close to Danny though, just in case.

Spike can’t believe his luck, finding such a friend. Every now and then he catches himself gazing at Danny in adoration. He’s very handsome, in a wild sort of way, with his ruffled hair and the pierced eyebrow. But Spike isn’t even thinking of that, he just can’t help admiring the guy. The way he talks to everyone like they are the most important people in the world. The way he smiles at the shy girls, hugging them until they start to giggle. The way he tells the guys to back of when they try to make Spike have at least one drink or one drag of their joints.

Slowly the smoke starts getting to his head. He knows Angel told him to call if there were any drugs, but how can he rat on those people? Besides, he isn’t doing them himself. So he just goes out every now and then for a breath of fresh air or wanders around the house. Grabbing a couple of brownies from a plate in the kitchen he heads upstairs. He’s just making his way back from the bathroom when he hears a moan from behind a half closed door. He knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help taking a peek. The room is only lit by multi-coloured Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, but it’s enough for him to see that the two naked bodies writhing on the bed are both male and the sight makes him gasp.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Danny’s voice whispering in his ear makes him jump, but the warm arms sliding around him are surprisingly calming. They stand watching in silence, Danny’s breath tickling his neck and making him feel funny in his stomach. The moaning gets louder, going straight to his cock and spinning his head. Suddenly they push the covers away and that’s when Spike sees that they’re not merely fondling each other. In wonder he watches the darker boy move above the fairer, rhythmically sliding in and out of him, obviously bringing him ecstasy. Their movements gradually become more frantic, the moans turn into groans and sweat makes their bodies glisten like rainbows.

He’s so engrossed in the scene in front of them that he’s caught completely off guard when a hot tongue licks his ear. That’s when he notices the fingers rubbing his nipples and the pressure of Danny’s hard cock pressing against his thigh. He turns around searching his friend’s face questioningly. Danny gazes into his eyes for a moment, but when Spike doesn’t move away he reaches up and kisses him tenderly on the lips.

The kiss is so different from the ones he’s used to. There is no blind passion or desperation, just soft lips pressing against his own, and then a shy tongue seeks entrance. Without thinking he opens up and gives in to the sensation. For the longest time they stand there kissing, not even stopping when the spent couple gets dressed and steps around them to go rejoin the party.

Danny’s hands are around his waist, holding him in a light embrace and when Spike starts fumbling with the buttons of his friends pants Danny simply moves his hand gently away without ever breaking the kiss. Spike can feel himself getting light-headed and the world seems to rock and sway around him. He thinks he may be flying or swimming or…

“Whoa… steady there. I think you need to sit down. Did you smoke?”

“Smoke? No… no smoke. All I had was some Coke and cookies.”

Through a wall that seems thick as molasses he hears “So that’s why you taste of chocolate.” before he drifts off.

When he wakes up the house is quiet. It takes him a moment to figure out where he is but Danny’s sleeping form next to him on the bed… wait, how did he get into bed? Suddenly he remembers Danny’s hot lips on his and is seized by panic. Angel’s gonna kill him. The clock on the bedside table says 4 o’clock and that is so far from good that he feels like vomiting. He scrambles out of bed, looking frantically for his clothes (naked? He slept naked with Danny?) when a small hand grabs his wrist.

“It’s ok. It’s ok.”

“How can you say that? It’s **not** ok. Daddy’s gonna freak. He told me to call him before midnight and…”

Suddenly the room starts spinning and he can’t breathe. There’s a tightening in his chest and he falls to his knees. In a heartbeat Danny is kneeling next to him, telling him to take deep breaths, stroking his back. Finally the knot seems to give and he is gulping for air, trembling as tears run down his face. He looks up to see someone standing in the doorway, a woman wearing only a thin long t-shirt, with a look of concern on her face. She kneels down on the other side of him and together she and Danny lift him up on the bed. Their voices drift to him through his muffled state.

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. He woke up and just panicked.”

“I thought you said he was gay.”

“I only said he seemed to like me. Anyway, I don’t think that’s the reason. He said something about his dad.”

A hand starts stroking his face gently like silk.

“Spike? Sweetheart? It’s ok, I called your dad and told him you could sleep over here. He said it was fine.”

He’s trying to make sense of her words but his brain seems to be on vacation because all he can do is start hyperventilating, as he gasps ‘No, no, no’.

“He doesn’t know? It’s ok, I didn’t tell him anything. Darling, can you hear me? I told him you would sleep in the guestroom, and you can, you know, if you feel uncomfortable in here?” The woman, Danny’s mum he presumes, looks up at her son, who nods frantically, all the while stroking Spike’s hair, a look of worry on his face.

“Danny just carried you in here when you passed out, that’s all. You got a little sick. Your clothes are in the dryer. Spike, do you understand me? It’s all right, everything is all right.”

“No, no… daddy. He needs me. I can’t… I promised I wouldn’t.” But the world turns into a sea of haunting images as he drifts away again, the sound of their voices echoing in his ears.

“I told you to keep those brownies away.”

“I already said it wasn’t me. Someone must have found them. It’s not like you hid them that well. And most my friends know you tend to keep them around.”

“Most your friends are older and if not wiser, then at least more capable of taking care of themselves. He’s just a child.”

“He’s the same age as me.”

Sighing, she takes her son into her arms and rocks the small body slowly. “I know sweetheart, I know.”

\------

Angel wakes up to an army of dwarfs hacking away inside his head. He’s lying in bed, an empty bottle of whiskey by his side, the phone clutched in his hand. Puzzled he stares at it for a moment before remembering some woman waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him something about Spike.

Spike!

Frantic, he stumbles to his feet and makes his way slowly into the boy’s room. Empty. It’s obvious that no one has been sleeping there in weeks. Of course not. As his mind slowly comes back to him he remembers that Spike never sleeps in here anymore, because he sleeps with him, in his bed. Slim and naked and warm with desire. (Daddy, please…..oh, yes…oh God) Shove it into the dark room. Just shove it in and turn the key.

But where is the boy? Groaning he tries to remember that telephone call. It can’t have been anything wrong because then he would have done something, right? She said something about Spike and Danny and…

Wasn’t there a party? He’s sure he remembers a party. Spike went to a party. Danny’s party. And a woman called to tell him Spike was sleeping over there. With Danny. Did she say Spike was sleeping with Danny? No, that can’t be right. Can it?

He drags himself into the bathroom, ashamed by the image that meets him in the mirror. What if Spike had needed him? He wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed, much less drive over there to do something more drastic. What the hell happened? After heaving what little he has in his stomach into the toilet he wearily brushes his teeth before sitting heavily down on the toilet seat. He recalls falling into a brood, thinking about Spike at that party. The bottle getting lighter, his head getting heavier, his brain apparently leaking out through his ears. Sufficient to say, the Father of The Year award won’t be coming his way.

The gentle closing of the door shakes him out of his misery. Light feet tip-toe through the house, stopping by their bedroom, then continuing the search until they finally stop outside the bathroom. The knocks are hesitant, like the boy’s not sure if or how he will be received.

“Daddy? Are you in there?”

Angel tries to get to his feet but falls ungracefully on his bare bottom, cursing loudly.

“Daddy? Are you ok? I’m sorry. I just got tired and fell asleep. Nothing… nothing happened. Daddy?”

He finally finds the strength to stand up, throw some cold water in his face and open the door slowly. Spike is standing a few steps away, looking as if he’s ready to run at the first sign of trouble. Shifting on his feet, glancing up occasionally, but not daring to lock eyes with his father, he finally bows his head in submission

“I’m sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

“I thought you said nothing happened.”

The look of panic on his son’s face makes his heart cold and he longs to turn around and stick his head even further down the toilet bowl.

“Nothing did happen. I just got tired and…” The stink of alcohol suddenly hits Spike’s nose and he reels back, staring at his dad in fear. “Why don’t you go back to bed, dad? You look… tired. Please?”

“Were you a good boy, Will? Did you do as you were told?” A shaking hand reaches out and strokes the boy’s tangled hair. “Did you save yourself for daddy?”

“Yes, daddy.” Spike slides his arms around the naked body and helps him stagger into the bedroom. “I’m all yours. Just your boy.”

“You are, baby, you are my boy.” His eyes are filling up but he doesn’t really know why so he bites back and sits heavily down on the bed. He pats the space beside him and Spike sits stiffly down, not even relaxing when the heavy arm pulls him closer and he feels a wet face snuggling him in the neck.

“It’s ok, dad. Why don’t you go back to sleep? I’ll stay here with you.”

“You smell funny. Reminds me of something.”

“Probably just Danny’s mum’s perfume, dad. Now sleep.” He finally manages to push his dad back on the pillows and pulls the covers up around him.

“I don’t like sleeping alone. You left me alone all night. I don’t like being alone.”

Patting his dad awkwardly, Spike stands up and undresses, slipping under the covers and putting his arms around the clammy body. The guilt is killing him.  
  
Nothing happened, dad. Nothing at all. I didn’t get high eating a cake made out of hash. I didn’t watch two guys have sex while being felt up. I didn’t break my word to you and kiss my best friend. I didn’t spend the night naked in his bed. And I certainly didn’t wish for a moment that I could stay there, eating home cooked food and being cuddled by a woman that smells a little bit like my mum, instead of coming back here, because I was terrified of you. No dad, nothing happened. Nothing at all.

It only takes about five minutes before loud snores echo in the room. He lies still a little bit longer, just in case, before he gets up, walks out and closes the door behind him. Picking the phone up from the bathroom floor he takes it into his room and after locking the door he dials Danny’s number.  
  
“Hey, it’s me. Everything is ok. No, no problem, he says to say hello and thank you to your mum for letting me stay. I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m sorry about… I was just confused. Look, can we talk about it later? No, I’m not mad, I’m just… I know you didn’t. I like you too. _Oh_. Danny, I’m sorry, but I can’t. No, I just can’t. No, it isn’t that. Please, just later, ok? Danny? Am I still your friend?”

\---------------------

He puts his clothes in the washer and takes a long shower, thoroughly washing the smell of marijuana out of his hair. He suddenly feels starved and regrets not eating that huge breakfast Danny’s mum had made for them but he had just been so terribly worried. Looking through the fridge he finds some eggs and makes himself an omelette. It’s kinda blend though, without the mushrooms and bacon and all the other stuff his dad usually puts in. But it satisfies most of his hunger and he licks the plate clean before putting it in the dishwasher. Popping open a can of coke he walks out into the garden and sits down on the porch with a sigh. When did his life get so complicated?


	13. Chapter 13

_He follows the sound of moaning, walking through one door after another in what seems an endless corridor. At the final door he stops, dreading what he knows he will find on the other side. A loud shout of ecstasy finally pushes him to open it. The light inside the room is red, casting blood red shadows on the sweaty bodies writhing on the bed. He doesn’t want to see but he looks anyway, straight into the eyes of his son. Piercing blue, looking at him in mockery, pursed lips blowing him a kiss before he turns back to the other boy and kisses him hard. It’s Danny, laughing between his grunts as he moves in and out of his son’s tight hole, pounding into him with animalistic passion. Just the way Angel always wanted to take him._

_“Stop it! What are you doing?”_

_“What do you think I’m doing, daddy? I’m letting him fuck me as you should have done a long time ago. Did you think I’d wait for you forever?”_

_“But you weren’t ready…”_

_“Ready? You’re the one that’s not ready. Why don’t you want to fuck me, dad?”_

_“Want...? I…”_

_“Why don’t you fuck me? Fuck me! Fuck me!” And suddenly he is. Slamming into his boy as hard as he can, splitting him open, crushing him underneath his heavy bulk, riding him until all there is left is a bloody mass of torn flesh with blue, blue eyes and a pretty mouth shouting: ‘Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!’_

With a cry he wakes up, sweating and panting, sticky with his own spending. He feels sick and disgusted and no matter how hard he tries to shove them away, lock them in the dark room, the images keep playing again and again in his mind like a sick snuff movie. He glances at the alarm clock. It’s close to dinnertime. Slowly he makes his way into the bathroom and stays there for half an hour.

When he comes out, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, he both looks and smells a lot better, but his complexion is still grey and his eyes red-tinted. He walks hesitantly up to his son where he sits on the sofa and puts an unsteady hand on the slim shoulder. He can feel it tensing for a minute, but suddenly the boy jumps up and runs into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, dad. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time.”

“No, baby. I’m sorry. I’ve been a bastard, a damn selfish bastard. I never meant to scare you. I love you, baby. I shouldn’t have been drinking. I shouldn’t have…oh, God.”

“I wasn’t scared. Please, daddy.” Slender fingers working at his belt.

“I could have… Will, we have to stop this. I have to stop this.” Suddenly resolute he moves Spike’s hand away.

“Nooo! Please, daddy. Don’t! I need you.” He tries to reach for his daddy’s zipper again but Angel seizes his hands and holds them firmly in his grip.

“What you need is a father. You need me to be your father.”

Spike’s eyes fill with tears as he struggles and finally gives up. Shaking, he buries his tear-stained face in his dad’s t-shirt. After some time he takes a deep breath with a resolved expression, hiding it behind a hurt pout before looking up. Flashing the baby-blues, trembling lip, tilting the head the way he knows his dad can’t resist.

“I need you to be my daddy.”

Covering his dad’s chest in feather light kisses, whimpering as he rubs his crotch against daddy’s thigh. Quickly hiding a sad smile when he hears a low gasp.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” But the voice is quivering, guilt being overcome by lust.

“Daddy, please!” Sneaking one hand loose, he rubs his dad’s erection in tiny circles. “I’m your baby. You told me I was your baby.” Again giving him the big eyes, biting down on his lower lip.

“And you are, you are. Oh God. Please, Will.” Closed eyes, shallow breaths.

“Don’t you want me, da…daddy?” A tiny sob in his voice and… he’s home free.

That night Angel pushes two fingers inside him, holding his son’s shivering body pinned down as he covers him in shallow bitemarks.  
\---------------------------

That Sunday they spend exploring each other’s bodies. Angel finds just the right places to lick in order to have Spike whimpering like a kitten. Spike learns just how to lick him the right way, how to suck, not too hard, not too light. Each blowjob earns him a snuggle, if he manages to take his dad’s cock all the way in and swallow he is rewarded with his daddy’s hot tongue pressing into his entrance. He fucks himself on daddy’s finger, wanting and begging for more, but Angel won’t give it to him. A tongue, a couple of fingers, that’s all. When he presses his backside hard against Angel’s cock he can feel his inner struggle. One day he will win. One day his daddy will be completely his.

And then he’ll never leave him.

\-----------------------------

When they pull up in front of the school Monday morning, Danny is standing by the gate, waiting for him. Spike gives his dad a small apologetic smile and a quick peck on the cheek instead of the usual kiss and grope they’re used to.

“It’s all right, dad.” He whispers. “I’ll make it up to you when I come home.”

“You better.” It’s barely audible, but the words make him shiver and he smiles again, this time flicking his tongue before setting his face into a neutral expression and stepping out of the car.

The two boys walk towards the school, having almost reached the doors before either speaks a word.

“I’m sorry…”

“Are you…”

Abruptly they both stop, then look at each other and start laughing. It feels good, getting rid off the tension and they continue inside, chatting away like nothing ever happened. If it weren’t for those subtle looks Danny keeps giving him or the warmth in Spike’s stomach every time he catches him at it he could almost imagine nothing _did_ happen.

It’s much better now, at school, after Danny has taken him under his wing. The kids show this scrawny little kid incredible respect. Maybe it’s the whole being-in-a-band thing or just his attitude of not caring what anyone says or does. Except when it comes to Spike.

No one is allowed to hustle his friend. Ever since that first day of arriving in a new school and he walked in on those bullies kicking the boy, a look of resignation and loneliness on his face, it’s been that way. It was like a fire was turned on inside him and before they knew what was happening, two of them were lying on the ground and Danny was standing in front of the bleeding boy, his anger making him appear twice his height. The rest took one look at him and ran away. And as Danny reached down to help the beaten boy to his feet, Spike looked into the eyes of his first friend.

And what a friend he is. They can talk for hours, they pass notes in classes, they scrunch up their noses at the awful cafeteria food. All those little things that kids do. Except Spike never had anyone to do them with. And for a moment it looked like he would loose that. The thought of being alone again… his heart starts pounding in his chest and he looks over at Danny, quickly calming down when the boy gives him a smile. Everything is all right. They’re still friends and everything is all right.

Danny keeps him company after school as he’s waiting for Angel to come get him. They sit side by side on the steps, close enough to feel each other’s heat, far enough apart to be comfortable.

“Mum was wondering if you’d want to come over some day.” Danny’s voice is gentle, not wanting to push or imply anything Spike is not comfortable with.

“I don’t know…” ( _You left me alone all night. I don’t like being alone._ )

“She promises not to feed you any cookies.” This is the first time either of them mentions that night and he looks at Spike uncertain of his reaction, sighing with relief when the boy giggles.

“They did taste good though.”

“The trick is to use the right balance of cocoa against pot.” That earns him another giggle and Danny has to fight not to lean over and kiss those smiling lips. His friend doesn’t smile nearly enough and Danny decides that his new mission in life will be to change that.

“I’ll have to ask my dad.” Danny looks at him quizzically, and for a moment Spike panics. Sometimes it feels as if Danny can see straight into his soul and some things are just not supposed to be seen. “I mean, I’m sure he won’t mind, it’s just…”

“You’re pretty close, you and your dad.” Danny’s words stress him out further but he stares off toward the street, biting his lip before answering.

“Yeah. It’s just him and me, you know.” ( _I’m all yours. Just your boy._ )

“Been long since…?”

“Three years. Someone… shot her. In a shop. There was a robbery.” His hands knot into fists, knuckles white.

“I’m sorry.” Danny’s hand sneaks over and their pinkies touch briefly before he pulls back again. “My dad just left. Never knew why. Guess he got tired of us.” He shrugs and smiles, clearly not that bothered by the whole thing.

“I never knew my dad.” He sees the look of confusion on Danny’s face and hurries to explain. “My real dad. Angel and my mum got married when I was ten.”

“I didn’t know. You always call him dad so…”

“He’s the only dad I’ve known. It just feels right to call him that.” ( _Or daddy. Kiss me, daddy. Was I good, daddy? Please let me come, daddy._ )

“I did think he looked a bit too young to be your dad. How old is he?”

“Twenty eight. They used to joke about that. Him being her toy boy.” Just like now I’m his.

“Huh. You didn’t mind him coming into your home?”

“Oh no. He was fun and he made mum laugh. They really loved each other. And now he loves me.”

Startled he looks over at Danny but his friend seems not to have noticed anything strange. He’s studying his fingers, moving them like on a guitar neck. Spike can’t help staring at them, wondering what it’s like to have music inside his whole body like that.

“So when did you learn to play the guitar?”

“My mom taught me when I was still tiny. She used to play and sing for me all the time. The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel. Burning incense and running around naked in the woods.” Seeing the look on Spike’s face, he chuckles. “Guess I had a pretty strange childhood.”

“Strange? It sounds wonderful. Mine was the normal dull English one. Tea and biscuits, a lot of rain, cold and windy days in Skagness in the summer. As boring as you can imagine.”

But the memories still make his voice break. He can feel tears stinging his eyes and he blinks, trying to clear his vision. When Danny’s arm sneaks across his shoulders he leans into his embrace, closing his eyes gratefully. A flashback to Danny holding him two nights ago comes to his mind and he longs to turn to his friend and ask him why. Why had he kissed him? Why had he touched him like that? But he’s not sure he wants to know the answer. After all, maybe Danny kisses and touches all his friends like that. Instead he remains still with his eyes closed, savouring the heat from the small body pressing tight into his.

“Your dad is here.”

Startled he jumps up, almost tipping Danny over in his haste. There’s a puzzled and a little hurt look on his friends face and he really wishes he could explain. Instead he grabs his backpack and runs down the steps.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells without looking back, painfully aware of the panic in his voice. Please don’t let daddy have seen. Please let him be in a good mood. Please, please…

“Hi dad. Danny was just keeping me company.” He plants only a small kiss on his dad’s cheek, knowing they’re still being watched, sliding his hand over into his dad’s lap. He’s semi-hard as usual and a light kneading earns him a small moan.

“I could see that. Getting frisky, was he?” The voice is flat but Angel doesn’t move his son’s hand away, only starts the car and they drive off.

“What? No! It was just…we were just… I was telling him about mum.” Angel looks over at him and seems to now first notice the red eyes and wet lashes. With a sigh he reaches over and hugs the boy.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Daddy can be such a jerk sometimes. I’m glad you have a friend. He seems like a nice one.”

“He is, he is. He plays the guitar and all the kids look up to him. He’s very bright and he looks out for me. Can I go and visit him sometime? His mum said I could.”

“Of course you can.” Angel ruffles the boy’s hair, chuckling at his eagerness. “Anytime you like. I know I can trust you.”

Spike puts on his biggest smile but inside the guilt is killing him. “Thanks, dad.” Pulling down the zipper on his dad’s pants he reaches inside. “Now, how can I make up to you for this morning?”

\-----------------------

Lying in bed that night, Spike can’t help to compare the big body of Angel to the scrawny one of Danny. And just thinking that makes him sick with guilt. Why is he even thinking of Danny that way? He loves Angel, loves him more than anything, and he wouldn’t hurt him for the world. Angel is his love, his heart, his daddy. His everything. Even the possibility of loosing him makes Spike so sick with despair that he can feel his heart thumping in his chest, so fast it hurts.

But Danny… Just thinking about Danny calms him down again. Something about Danny makes him feel at peace with himself and what he is. He feels a strange fuzzy warmness in his heart thinking off Danny’s arms holding him, Danny’s voice talking to him, Danny’s soft lips kissing him.

And it did stir something a bit lower than his heart when Danny kissed him. But the thing is, before that happened he hadn’t even thought about him that way. He’d just been so happy that he finally had someone to talk to. But now when they have gone there… he can’t help wanting it again. And that’s just bad beyond everything he can even think off.

“Dad?”

“Uhm? What?”

“We never talk anymore.” He keeps his voice low. Not judging, just…

“What do you mean?” Angel shifts beneath him, trying to see his son’s face but Spike doesn’t look up, absentmindedly drawing circles with his finger on his dad’s chest.

“We just… do this” And he drops a kiss on his dad’s chest. “And I love doing this. It’s just... we never talk. I miss that.” He finally looks up, relieved to find his dad smiling down at him.

“I thought you had Danny to talk to now. Didn’t need your old man for that.” And he kisses Spike on the head, burying his nose into the soft hair. It makes his son giggle and Angel so loves that sound.

“You’re not old. Danny says you look too young to be my dad.” He stills when Angel stiffens under him. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

“Danny?” Angel can’t help his voice rising slightly. “What have you been telling him?”

“Nothing. We were just talking.” Spike starts kissing Angel’s chest, trying to make up for his blunder. “And that’s when I realised, you and me, we never do that anymore.” That seems to calm his dad down, because he starts to run his fingers through Spike’s hair, his other hand stroking his arm.

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Something. Anything.”

“The weather?” Angel’s fingers start creeping across Spike’s stomach and he can’t help giggling. “The stock market?” Reaching under his arms, crawling like spiders, “Your grades?” up to his neck where he knows the boy is ticklish as hell. “The newest reality show?” Spike is laughing so much by now it hurts his stomach. He yells to his dad to stop and tries to tickle him back. They end up sweaty and panting, laughing like maniacs.

Their breaths finally slowing down they lie and stare at each other. Spike eases forward and kisses his dad softly on the lips. They kiss like that for a while. No blind passion or lust. Just peace. But in the end it gets heated as always. Breaths getting shallower as their kiss deepens and their bodies start moving against one another. Hands searching and finding. Stroking, probing, gripping. Teeth that nibble the skin, tongues licking and plunging. Cocks sliding, thrusting until Angel takes them both in his big hand and strokes them together until Spike is moaning loudly. He bites into his dad’s right nipple and pinches the other, a little rough like daddy likes it, but not too much, because this is not that kind of night. Their movements become faster, and Angel seizes his mouth kissing him deeply as Spike cries into his mouth. Shuddering he comes onto his daddy’s belly, a moment before Angel has his own release.

As they kiss slowly again, Spike feels happier than he has in a long time.


	14. Chapter 14

As soon as they walk in the door a voice calls out to them from the kitchen: “So glad you’re here. I was just about to make some herbal tea. Would you like some?”

“Mom, just because he’s English doesn’t mean he drinks tea all day.” Danny shouts as he kicks of his shoes and walks inside. Spike follows him, blushing like a girl. What on earth does Danny’s mum think off him since last time?

Danny hugs his mother tight and she ruffles his hair, smiling. Then she walks over to Spike and gives him a hug too. A moment he stands there stiff before melting into her warm touch. She smells of strange herbs and incense. And just a hint of that scent that reminds him of his own mum.

They sit down by the kitchen table and Spike sips his tea slowly while Danny and his mother chat about their day. It’s strange observing something he expects is a normal household. Of course his own mum was rather normal. In a I-was-a-London-punk kinda way. But the thing is, and that’s what hurts so much, is that he’s starting to forget her. Sometimes he runs in to stare at the picture he has in his bedroom, just to remember what she looks like. And no matter how hard he tries he can’t remember how it was, being just the two of them. She’d brought Angel home to meet him, shortly before his eight birthday. They had a long distance relationship for almost a year, kept strong by frequent visits and hour long phone calls, before they moved over here and moved in with Angel. A year later they got married. Not that he regrets any of it. Coming here and meeting his daddy…

“You must be thinking some happy thoughts.”

Startled he looks up to both of them watching at him expectantly. Was he supposed to say something?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” Blushing he looks down into his now empty cup, waiting for the inevitable laughter.

“Just nice to see you smiling, sweetie, that’s all. Now, I hope you didn’t get in trouble with your dad last time you were here.”

“No. No trouble. He told me to say thank you. For letting me stay and come again today. He’s very grateful. We both are.”

She looks at him with a sad smile, then reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it lightly. And he has to bow his head because for some reason that small gesture makes his lip quiver and his eyes sting. She just squeezes it again, seeming to sense something in him he doesn’t quite understand himself, before standing up and clearing the table.

“Why don’t you boys run up to your room, Danny? I’ll call for you when it’s time for dinner. You eat tofu, right Spike?”

He just nods, having no idea what she’s talking about, but knowing that he would never refuse anything she offered. Together they walk up the stairs, silent until they are by the door to Danny’s room. It’s ajar and Spike suddenly realises it’s the same room as they stood outside that night. Which means they slept in the same bed as…

Danny pushes the door open and waits for Spike to walk ahead. He hesitates one moment, like if going in there means he will again be cheating on his daddy. Which is ridiculous because they’re not going to do anything like that. If it hadn’t been for the cookies nothing would have happened at the party. And that’s why nothing will happen now.

Danny waits patiently for him, as if he knows what’s going on inside Spike’s head. Except of course he doesn’t. Not quite. Giving his friend an embarrassed smile he steps inside and looks around. He hasn’t really seen it before. All he remembers from that night are the Christmas lights, which are still hanging from the ceiling, and the naked bodies moving. And then in the morning he had been too nervous to really notice anything.

But now, now he finally sees it in all its glory and it is no question what kind of person lives here. There are posters with pictures of guitarists on the walls, most of them unknown to Spike, but he does recognise Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton. Above the bed is a poster with a picture of a wolf howling to the moon and another one with John Lennon in his round glasses. Spike can’t help thinking of his own, locked away at home. He can’t read quite as well without them but it’s all right. When he’s sixteen, he’s going to buy some contacts. And then no one will know.

There’s a thick red rug on the floor and a colourful throw on the bed. Two guitars; one electric, one classic, are standing in one corner. There’s a bean bag chair and an old arm chair covered with clothes. In a bookcase behind the door there are lots of comic books, some American, but mostly foreign. And an amazing collection of books about music and musicians. Spike thinks back to his own meagre assortment of Spiderman and some other super heroes and a copy of H.C. Andersen’s fairy tales his mum used to read to him as a child. He’d look like an ignorant kid compared to this. He really must do something about that, he thinks. Awkwardly he looks around, trying to decide where to sit.

That decision is pretty much made for him as Danny throws his backpack on the bean bag, falls back on the bed and closes his eyes. Of course he can move the backpack. Or the clothes in the armchair. But somehow it just seems easier to lie down beside Danny. They lie there for a moment, comfortable in their silence. Spike is beginning to doze off when Danny suddenly turns on his side and looks at him.

“Are you gay? Or did I get the wrong impression? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s all right. I was just wondering.”

Spike feels the sudden need to flee but Danny’s kind eyes once again calm him down. Embarrassed he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering. “I think I am. I’m not really sure.” Frowning he adds absentmindedly, “Dad says I could be bi.”

“So you have told him?” Danny sounds confused and Spike panics. He’s not allowed, he mustn’t… ( _You can never tell anyone. Never!_ )

Stiffly, he nods. “Yeah, sort off. He figured it out.” ( _I’m thinking it was the kiss that gave it away_.)

“Was he mad or…?” Spike keeps his eyes closed, trying to ignore the soft air being blown against his cheek as Danny speaks.

“No. He’s cool.” ( _And hot. So very, very hot. Bugger, don’t think about that. Don’t think about his hands touching you, stroking you. His hot tongue licking down, down…_ )

“It’s just, you seem nervous about him, or about me, I’m not really sure which it is.” Danny’s hurt voice wakes him up from his misty haze and he looks anxious up at the boy.

“Not you! I mean… it’s complicated. I can’t really talk about it.” Looking away he bites his lip. “Sorry.”

And he really is, because he wishes he could talk to Danny about all of it. Or just any of it. The way certain touches make him cry for more. How one look from his father has him on his knees begging for a taste. How his daddy’s voice can either make him smile with happiness or quiver with anticipation.

“It’s ok.” Danny lies back again, their shoulders pressing against each other. “I just thought you liked it when I kissed you.” Again that tiny hurt in his voice. “But maybe that was just the pot.”

“No! I did like it. It’s just…” How can he explain this? He never wanted to be the cause of pain to Danny and somehow he’s managed to screw that up.

“Complicated.”

“Yes! I mean… No. I don’t know what I mean.” Frustrated he groans.

“Because of your dad?” His words make Spike freeze, until he continues. “He thinks you’re too young? When is your birthday?”

“In a month. But…”

“Mom had this whole time-to-tell-you-all-about-sex ceremony when I turned sixteen. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I knew most of it.” He chuckles. “Well, the gay side, anyway.”

“But I’m not really…” He stops, embarrassed.

“Gay? We can do it about girls too, it’s rather fun actually.”

“I’m not turning sixteen.” He blurts out, feeling stupid and childish and why would Danny want to hang out with a kid like him?

“Oh.”

“I’m a year ahead.” He knows he’s talking too fast, but the whole thing is so incredibly embarrassing. “They thought I should… its very stupid.” He turns his head toward the wall, looking up at the wolf. Howling. Yeah, that would feel good, right about now. Danny poking his side lightly makes him twitch, it being one of his extremely ticklish spots.

“No, it’s not.” Danny’s voice is laced with wonder. “I didn’t know you were that smart.”

“I’m not!” Great, now he’s a stuck-up nerd. Can this day get any better? “It’s just …”

“Hey, it’s good to be smart.” Danny pokes him again, and this time Spike can’t help giggling. “I used to be good at school, but then I kinda got caught up in my music instead. Mum isn’t too pleased but she lets me do it my way.”

He pokes Spike a little more, just to hear that giggle again. The boy doesn’t disappoint him and Danny laughs with him. It turns into a tickling battle, echoing his night earlier this week with his dad. But at the same time so very different. Panting they finally lie back again, an occasional giggle escaping every now and then. Smiling Spike turns on his side and looks at his friend.  
  
“But you’re a great musician. That’s way better than being good at math or something useless like that.”

Danny turns and faces him, an embarrassed smile on his face. “That’s not what the teachers say.”

“But you can make people happy with your music. When did math ever make people happy?”

“My music makes you happy?”

Danny looks so delighted Spike can’t help blurting out: “You make me happy.”

His friend stares at him, finally reaching out and stroking Spike’s face tenderly. And before he knows what’s happening he’s leaning into that touch. Danny’s hand is warm and his fingers are calloused. Their rough surface stroke his jaw, the thumb slides over his lips. The hot breath against his face grows softer as Danny leans toward him and kisses him. That same kind of tender kiss he remembers from that night. So soft, so soft. He closes his eyes, and kisses him back. Getting lost in his turmoil of feelings until Danny’s fingers stroking his cheek wake him up.

“You’re crying. Did I…? I didn’t mean to…”

Confused, Spike looks at Danny’s wet fingers before raising his hand to his face. It’s covered in teary tracks and he draws back his hand, staring at the drops. Why is he…?

( _ **No one** touches you!_ ) Oh God! Panicking he scrambles off the bed, leaving his friend staring at him with a scared look on his face. “Spike, what’s wrong?”

Danny’s terrified voice is distant and deafened by the echoes in his own head. His dad’s drunken voice getting louder and louder until all he can do is to cover his ears as he crawls into the corner.

( _Were you a good boy, Will?_ ) Someone is tugging at his sleeve, but he presses his palms harder to his ears, trying to block out the accusing voice. Shaking his head he whispers: “It just happened.” ( _Did you do as you were told?_ ) “I didn’t mean to.” ( _Did you save yourself for daddy?_ ) “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry, daddy. Please forgive me. Please.”

And with horror he hears his dad’s proud voice: ( _I know I can trust you._ )

\-------------------------------------------

Angel can feel his stomach clenching tighter and tighter until the knot is making him grimace with pain. How the fuck could this happen? When the woman, Danny’s mother, had said she needed to talk to him about Spike, her voice cold and trembling, he just knew. Somehow she had found out. Had Spike actually told them? How could he do that? They’ve talked about it again and again how no one must ever know. And then he just goes and tells the first boy he meets? He knew that boy was trouble from the moment he saw him. He should have… With sudden anger he bangs the steering wheel with his hands. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! His anger turns to fear again, just as suddenly.

Oh God! She knows! She knows and she’s going to tell. And they’ll take Spike away from him and put him in prison. A paedophile in prison! He’ll be dead before sunset on his first day. Not that he cares, because if they take his boy away, what the hell has he got to live for anyway? His beautiful boy. His little William. With a trembling hand he wipes his face, fighting not to break down.

Maybe he can explain it to her? Explain that it’s not about sex, it’s about love. He loves the boy so much, he would never in a million years hurt him. No foster family will ever be able to take as good care of him. Maybe they would send him back to England? He has grandparents there, but they’re old and the boy doesn’t know them at all. They haven’t called once since their daughter died.

Maybe he can pay her off? They didn’t seem to be that well off, judging by the house. Not that he has much, but he could sell the house and the car. Non of it matters if he can just fix this. He has to fix this. Oh God, what is he going to do?

As Angel pulls up in front of their house he feels ready to throw up. Maybe he should just run in, grab the boy and then drive away as fast as he can. They could be in Mexico before…

The door opens and she stands there waiting for him to get out of the car. Taking a deep breath he gets out, leaving the car unlocked, just in case. As he walks up to the house he tries to read her expression. She’s a beautiful woman, dressed in a flowery skirt and a violet t-shirt that makes her long red hair glow. She shakes his hand, her own is slender and rough, and he can see blue veins, dotted with red marks in the crook of her arm. She follows his gaze and then looks up at him.

“Spike told me you’re a cop. I’m not a junkie, if that’s what you think. Those are IV-marks. I have cancer.”

With that she turns around and walks in, leaving the door open for him to follow. Which he does, struck by her honesty. He can’t see or hear the boys anywhere as he follows her into the kitchen and sits down on the chair she offers him. She puts a mug of steaming hot tea in front of him, offering him sugar and milk, both of which he refuses. Wrapping his fingers around the mug he stares into the hot liquid, wishing he had some whiskey to pour into it. They sit together in silence for a moment, Danny’s mother sipping her tea and watching him not drink his.

“There is something wrong with Spike.” Her soft voice startles him and he looks up to find sympathetic eyes looking at him. He opens his mouth to say something, but really, what can he say? So instead he bows his head again, watching his hand swirling the teaspoon around and around in the mug.

“I gather you know he’s gay. According to what Spike told Danny you’re ‘cool with it’. Which is why this puzzles me.” She takes another sip from her mug, studying him for a moment before continuing.

“Danny’s gay. It’s always a shock to a parent, no matter how open minded they are. Or think they are.” He can see her smiling from the corner of his eye, but he dares not look up. “Society doesn’t love those who are different and just the thought of your child having to deal with the prejudices and hatred of ignorant people… it’s not what you vision for them when they are born. It’s hard, but all you can do is be there for them as they deal with it themselves.”

“I don’t hate him…I’m not like that… I…” He stops. What the fuck can he say anyway?

“I know. I can see that you love him. You are very protective of him though. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. He’s very protective of you as well. He seems to be a very private person, the little I’ve got to know him. But something very serious is disturbing him and it seems to be linked with…well, being gay, as far as I can see.”

This time he does look up at her. She sounds very worried, but she isn’t looking at him with anger or contempt. So she doesn’t know. If he weren’t so worried about Spike he would be crying with relief. Instead he clears his throat, trying to keep his voice even.

“What…what do you mean?”

“I don’t know if he told you but that night at the party, something happened. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, as you might haul me in, but some of the kids got hold of some hash-brownies I tend to keep around for the pain. I thought I had hid them, but kids will find things they want to find. And since most of Danny’s friends know of my condition, they also know how I deal with it.” She looks down and takes a deep breath, then raises her head and looks him straight in the eye. “Spike ate a couple, without knowing what they were. He got quite sick and that’s why he had to spend the night here. He woke up in the middle of the night and had what I would call a panic attack. At the time I though maybe it was caused by the drugs but today he had another one.”

Angel stares at her, his brain trying to process all the different thoughts swimming around. This woman fed his son drugs! Spike took drugs! Spike had a panic attack? Something in his son life is horrible enough for him to have panic attacks? No, not something. _Their relationship_ is so horrible to his son that he keeps getting panic attacks! Oh God, what has he done to him?

“If you want to press charges, so be it, but for now let’s talk about Spike. I know he’s young and he has experienced something no child should have to go through.” It takes Angel a second to realise she isn’t talking about the way he’s been abused by his stepfather, but the death of the boy’s mother. Ashamed of the relief he feels, he looks down, once again staring into the rapidly cooling tea.

“It must have been a terrible thing to happen, to the both of you, and nightmares about that wouldn’t worry me as much. Those would be quite natural.”

She reaches over and squeezes his hand lightly, making him feel even more of a bastard. She probably thinks he’s battling with feelings brought up with the mentioning of his wife death. The wife he has started to forget he had.

“Now the thing is, Danny has taken quite a liking to your son. Puppy love or not, he cares very much for him and maybe he took things a little further than Spike was ready to go.”

Shocked he pulls his hand away and stares at her, not wanting to believe her words. Her son did what? And Spike let him? Angel never imagined he could feel such pain. His boy betrayed him? With that scrawny little… Realising that she is looking at him he swallows his jealousy, even if it feel like acid in his throat. But he can’t hide the trembling in his voice.

“What did he do to him?” Images from his recent dream suddenly assault his mind and he clenches his fists trying to keep his hands from shaking. He’s going to strangle that boy. Beat him until there’s nothing left besides a mass of broken bones and…

“As far as I know all they did was kiss.” She studies him with a look of concern, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t help flinching. “Spike started crying and then he panicked. It took us a long time to calm him down. He’s sleeping upstairs. Don’t worry, everyone kept their clothes on this time.”

Something about that sentence bothers him but his mind is too occupied with images of the two boys kissing for him to be able to focus on it.

“Now I understand that coming to terms with being gay can be terrifying, especially for someone that young. I wish I’d known that he was only 14, I would have asked Danny to wait until he was older. Not that I know that would have changed anything, you can only control teenagers to a certain degree, but still. Spike’s very mature for his age, intellectually, but emotionally he seems to be very young.”

“He’s a very bright boy. And he will be 15 in a month.” The guilt in his voice seems so obvious to him that he’s surprised she doesn’t notice.

“Yes, Danny told me. But still, age is relative, don’t you think? But I digress.” She looks at him, obviously uncomfortable, but determined to see this through. “The thing is that he didn’t seem to be so scared of what they were doing, as much as he seemed to be scared of _you_.”

“What?!” The chair clatters to the floor as Angel jumps up, staring at her with disbelief. “Spike would never be scared of me! He knows I love him. I wouldn’t hurt him for the world. What do you mean he’s scared of me?”

His voice is getting louder and louder and she looks nervously to the door, reminding him off the boys sleeping upstairs. Together. Again he feels a stab to his heart and he starts pacing the spacious kitchen, trying to control his anger.

“You have some nerve accusing me off… whatever it is you’re accusing me off. He’s my son, dammit! He would never be scared of me. He would never…” Suddenly all his anger leaves him and he looks at her with despair. “He’s afraid of me? My son is afraid of me?”

She stands up and walks over to him, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. Leading him into the living room she sits him down on the sofa, where he slumps like a deflated balloon. What on earth has he done?

“Now, maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem. I’m only telling you the impression he gave me. He kept saying he was sorry and that he hadn’t meant to do it. And it was obvious he was talking to you.”

He hides his face in his hands, his voice close to breaking. “He was saying sorry to me?”

“He repeated daddy, daddy over and over again.”

The words hit him like a cold stone in the heart. Swallowing his tears he tries to keep his voice neutral. “Did he say anything else?” Please, please, please say no.

“It was pretty hard to understand him, he started to hyperventilate and then he fell asleep from exhaustion soon after we managed to calm him down. But that seemed to be his main concern. That he was failing you in some way. Which is why I was so surprised to hear that apparently you had no problem with him being gay. Danny thought maybe it had something to do with you wanting him to wait until he was older?”

It takes Angel a moment to realise she’s waiting for a response from him. Frantic he wrecks his brain for the right answer. “I did tell him I thought he was too young to do anything yet, even if he of course thinks he’s old enough. I had no idea he was interested in anyone special though.” Surprised he hears the lies rolling of his tongue, so convincing he can almost believe them himself. “I never meant to scare him though. He’s had some problems with his nerves after… after his mother died.” The blasphemy makes him cringe but somehow he manages to keep a look of paternal concern on his face. “Then with all the bullying in school, and I know he worries about me at work. Those cop shows on TV don’t exactly keep to reality.” He’s not really lying, just… avoiding some things.

“Maybe you should think of getting him some professional help. Just someone he can talk to. A child as young as that, he shouldn’t be so stressed. I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I care for him you know, and Danny does too. It hurts me to see him like this. But of course you are his father.”

He almost corrects her, but he is the boy’s father, isn’t he? His dad, his daddy. Plastering an appropriate sad look on his face he stands up. “I think I should take the boy home now. Thank you for your kindness.” And then he follows her without a word up the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever warnings I had before I'm doubling them now

As he drives home, constantly checking the sleeping boy in the rear mirror, his mind spins the events over and over again in his head. _That_ was too close. He’d almost lost it completely when he’d seen the boys sleeping; Spike spooned in Danny’s embrace. Danny’s mother (damn, he’d totally forgot to ask her her name) had shaken her son gently awake, shushing him when he looked startled up at the man looming over him.

It wasn’t until Angel moved over to the other side of the bed that he’d seen how bad Spike looked. His skin was grey and clammy, face puffy and blotched from the crying. There was no response except for a small whimpering when Angel took him in his arms and carried him down the stairs. Danny’s mother had hurried to open the front door for him, Danny himself standing unsure at the top of the stairs, watching them. He’d murmured some kind of gratitude as she ran ahead to open the car for him as well. He was rude, he knows, but he just wanted to get the hell out of there.  
  
When they get home he puts the boy in his own bed. It feels strange and wrong but he’s too shaken by what happened to allow them to sleep together. Not tonight, at least. He undresses him, careful to not look at him more than necessary, leaving his boxers and t-shirt on. Then he stands in the doorway, watching the small frame underneath the covers as the room gets darker and darker. And with the dwindling of light, his heart fills up with dread.

Will, his precious boy, is afraid of him. How could he have let this happen? How on earth did they go from one kiss to the boy being so scared of him that it’s making him sick? What did he do to bring on this change? Or maybe it has always been about fear? Is that it? Had he been right after that first time? Had Spike sensed his desire and acted out of fear of being abandoned? Trying to keep his father happy with blowjobs and kisses?

Never has he needed a drink like now. To be able to wash away the bitter taste of self-disgust in his mouth. To forget. Everything. If they could just go back to the way things were before that kiss. No, further back. To before his feelings toward his son had changed. That day at the lake. But how can he be sure that’s when it started? Maybe he’d been lusting after him before that. Maybe even since he’d seen him for the first time. Eight years old with those big blue eyes and golden curls that he just couldn’t stop running his fingers through. He’s a paedophile, right? Age doesn’t matter to them. What had that woman said? Age is relative. So what should it matter if the boy is eight or fifteen? It’s still sexual abuse, incest, paedophilia, wrong, wrong, wrong.

Then why the hell does his cock twitch when the boy suddenly turns in his sleep, revealing a strip of flesh where his t-shirt is twisted around his body? Why on earth can’t he keep himself from hardening when a moan of distress is heard from the bed? He should be tucking the boy better in, making sure he isn’t cold. He should be stroking the sweaty forehead, easing his son out of whatever nightmare he’s having. Instead he just stands there, watching him writhe, listening to him whimpering and before he realises he’s rubbing himself through his jeans. Fuck!

Disgusted he stalks into the living room and stares at the bottle of whiskey on the shelve. Numbness. Amnesia. Oblivion. Sounds great, except… It’s usually followed by loss off reason, temper and control. Not a good idea. Last time he got drunk… Oh fuck! Spike’s big round eyes, his tense face flinching away from daddy’s fuming breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Not that he needs the alcohol to turn him into a monster. Images of Spike’s scared face from the last weeks repeat themselves in his mind over and over again. ‘No ma’m, I’d never scare my son.’ How could he be so blind?

Walking slowly into the bathroom he shies away from his image in the mirror as he brushes his teeth. Then he goes into his own bedroom and undresses before lying down on the huge empty bed. He’s never felt so alone in his whole life. And that’s the way it has to be.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will find a solution. He will sit the boy down and explain to him that it’s over. That from now on he will just be a father to him, that’s all he should be. His son obviously has feelings for that boy, Danny. He’ll tell him that as soon as he’s fifteen he can start seeing him, if he wants to. ( _Yeah, because before that is much too young, right?_ ) And maybe he can find a nice woman for himself. Someone to be a mother to Will. He has a feeling Danny isn’t all Spike‘s been seeking from that house.

With a heavy sigh he turns on his side, letting his arm hover over the empty space beside him. He runs his hand along the curves of the boy’s ghost, the lean body so imprinted in his mind that he can feel the smooth skin under his fingers. Stretching his neck he inhales the scent from the pillow beside him. Herbal shampoo and toothpaste. Spike. Bringing his hand down he grabs his erection. His hand is bigger and rougher but he keeps his grip loose, the way it was that first time, the way Will… He’s sobbing as his body convulses, spurting a pitiful amount of sperm over the empty side of the bed.

\----------------------------------------------

There’s a small hand stroking his face and drowsy with sleep he turns and kisses the palm. It tastes of salt and sugar and the combination makes him smile. “Love you. Love you so much.”

“Love you too, daddy.”

Hot lips pressing against his, a wet tongue slipping inside. He’s warm with passion instantly, his breath quickening so fast he feels dizzy. Spike’s kisses are frantic, fluttering all over his face and his chest, wet and hot. Small hands stroking him all over, pinching his nipples, fumbling at his erection.

Suddenly he can't hold back anymore. He grabs the boy and kisses him hard, fucking his mouth with his tongue, twisting his fingers in the boy's hair making it impossible for him to escape. His other hand is roaming all over the boy, finally slipping underneath his ass, squeezing it hard. He moves his body over the smaller one, still holding him tightly glued to his mouth and starts rubbing their groins together, fingers searching and finally finding their goal. His cock is aching and leaking and he is going frantic with need. He pushes his fingers inside, ignoring the yelp drowning in his mouth. Pushing the slender legs apart he pins the boy down with his weight, pulls out his fingers to make way and then he’s finally he’s at his goal. The boy starts thrashing underneath him, but he still keeps pushing, deeper, deeper. God, it's hot and tight and...

The sharp biting into his tongue makes him jerk back and he stares at the boy beneath him. Spike is gasping for breath, his eyes huge and terrified, tears gathering at the corners. His lips are bruised and swollen and he's trying his best to squirm away from Angel's heavy bulk. When he tries to sooth him, Spike flinches away from his hand. The reality of what he is doing suddenly dawns on him and he rolls away, the wet plop as his cock is released from the boy’s body making him sick to his stomach.

"Oh God! I'm so sorry! Oh Jesus, Will..."

"I couldn't breathe, daddy. I couldn't breathe. And... and you... it hurts! It hurts!"

As the boy slides off the bed and falls on the floor a trail of blood is left behind and Angel stares at it in horror. Suddenly he gets flashes of all his dreams running through his head and he’s gasping for breath. Just a few moments before Spike woke him up…

_Big blue eyes staring at him. The boy is not a day over five, baby-round cheeks, blond curly hair and pink pouting lips._

_"Why are you doing this, daddy? Why are you hurting me?"_

_And indeed he is hurt. There are bruises like thumb marks on his shoulders and thighs. His lips are stained with blood. Why didn't he notice this before? He wants to beg the boy forgiveness, but as he opens his mouth the words don't come. Instead he can hear himself growling 'On your knees!' and as the boy complies he grabs him by the hair and..._

Panicking Angel scrambles of the bed, runs to the bathroom and just about makes it. His stomach aches as he tries to get his breath back. Slowly he stands up, flushes the toilet and turns to the sink to get some cold water. The haggard face looking back at him from the mirror is his undoing. Sliding down to the floor he starts sobbing heavily, pushing a towel to his mouth to drown the noise.

He’s a monster. A horrible monster fucking with a child’s head and then with his body. Telling himself it’s love. The word punches him in the gut and this time he misses the bowl. Gasping he stares at the puddle, saliva running from his mouth. Disgusting. He’s disgusting. Using the boy to satisfy his own pleasure, never even looking at this from the other side. How could he fool himself for so long? He's been molesting his son and it doesn't matter if he seemed willing. He's too young to know what he wants. Oh God, what has he done? Spike!

He runs back to the bedroom but the boy is gone and so are his clothes. The only evidence he was there is the trail of blood on the sheets and floor.


	16. Chapter 16

He gets lost a couple of times on his way, whether because of the dark or the fact that his mind is so confused and filled with despair, he doesn’t know. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He’s a stupid child thinking he could play in an adult’s world. Night after night he’s been praying for his daddy to take him and now that he did… stupid, stupid, stupid!

Of course it hurt. He always knew it would. He just didn’t know it would hurt so bloody much. He’d bit him! Bit his own daddy and he’d seen blood on his lips. And then he’d whined like a little kid and run away. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He should turn back. Now. Just go back and beg his daddy to forgive him. Tell him he didn’t mean to, he just got scared because it all happened so fast. He’d felt like he was suffocating when all his daddy did was kiss him. Love him. Doing exactly what Spike’s been asking him to do. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

When he finally finds the right street, he slows down. Can he really go there? What if they start asking questions? In the glow of a streetlight he looks at himself in the side mirror of a car. He looks like… like his whole world just fell down on him and left him bloody and beaten, flushed with tears and bruised by it’s fingerprints. Angel’s fingerprints. Slowly he sinks down to sit on the sidewalk, wincing when he feels shocks of pain shooting up from his wet backside. He takes off his jacket and folds it up, putting it under him. It’s a bit better. But the pain tells him what he already knew. There’s no way he can just stroll up and knock on their door. ( _You can never tell anyone. Never!_ )

With a sigh he looks up at the soft light above the front door. He can almost smell the aroma of hot tea and incense; feel the warmth of her arms around him. See Danny’s kind smile...

Danny! He’d been kissing Danny and… what happened? He’d thought it strange when he woke up in his own bed, but he hadn’t remembered why, just thought Angel had been mad at him. And the thought had terrified him. That’s why he’d gone into his room, their room. Hearing his dad whimper in his sleep was like a stab in his heart. He must have done something terrible to have him crying like that. And not knowing what, he tried to comfort him the best way he knew how.

Well, now he knows why. Angel must have found out about that kiss. There was only a kiss, right? God, he hopes so. Not that that isn’t bad enough. He just wishes he could remember. There was a wolf howling and then there was a kiss… and pain! Why was there pain? Like some one was trying to wring him like a wet rag.

There must be something wrong with him. Something really wrong. Maybe he has a tumour? Maybe he’s being eaten alive by cancer and no one knew and now it’s too late to do anything? Maybe that’s why Angel was crying? Maybe he didn’t even find out about the kiss (please, please don’t let him know) but he’s sad because Spike is dying? For some reason that doesn’t scare him half as much as his dad finding out about the kiss. Because then, at least, he’d never find out that Spike betrayed him.

How could he do that? What kind of a person is he, betraying his daddy? His love. Because, God, he loves him so much. And now he’s probably ruined everything. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Warily he stands up and puts on his jacket again, shivering from the cold. This might be California but the nights are still chilly. Not that it matters if he’s sick anyway. Better get it over with quickly, right?

The town is so different at night. The trees seem huge and menacing and every time he sees a car coming he hides. Only perverts and murderers drive around at night. His mum told him this wasn’t like their home in the outskirts of London, where everyone knew one another and if a kid went missing the police would be knocking down Mr. Harris’ door within the hour. Spike shudders as he remembers that Harris kid, constantly bruised and never looking anyone in the eye. His mum had once told Spike to run over with a couple of chocolate biscuits to give the boy, standing across the street, watching the coppers take his dad in, one more time. “They should chop his nods of, the bloody pervert” she’d said and pushed Spike gently on his way when he’d asked what she meant. The poor boy had taken the treat without ever looking up and Spike had thought that a bit rude, but he still gave him a smile before running back into his mum’s arms.

Climbing over the wall to the cemetery he can’t help thinking of her. If only she was buried here, where it’s warm and almost always sunny, instead of that cold graveyard in Barny. But his grandparents had insisted. She was their daughter, she should be buried in her country’s earth and anyway, going to the states is what killed her, they bloody well wouldn’t let her stay there. And even Spike at the age of eleven had understood that they would never forgive Angel for what happened, even if it wasn’t his fault.

He’d been terrified that they would want him to stay too, but they hardly looked at him. He shouldn’t have been surprised, they never wanted to see her bastard child when they lived in England so why would they want him now their daughter was dead? Angel held him tight the whole flight back, letting him sob into his shirt until he fell asleep, then waking up hours later with wet hair.

The cemetery is dark and spooky, but he feels safer here than on the streets. He walks quietly, squinting to read the inscriptions on some of the stones. Beloved father. Beloved son. 15 years old he was, that lad. Maybe he had cancer too. He likes the ones with the doves and tiny angels most. That would be nice. A grey stone with a white dove peaking out from a hole.

My beloved son  
William  
1989-2004  
Heaven needed him more than me

Ok, that sounds stupid, but he still gets tears in his eyes. Not like he even knows if he _is_ beloved. Angel did say he loved him though, right before… but that was before. And he’s probably not going to heaven anyway. Not a betraying bugger like him. He wonders if it hurts, dying of cancer. He’s seen pictures of cancer patients on TV. Bony and pale, well that wouldn’t make much of a difference, would it? His giggles are hysterical and he has to fight to stop, calming his breath back to normal. And then there’s the baldness. Most of them go bald. Shiny heads that look too big for the thin body. Like aliens, except the skin is grey and the eyes aren’t black, just big and empty with a hint of terror.

He’s crying again, stumbling among the headstones, wiping the snot from his nose with a trembling hand. The first drops of rain hit him like splinters of ice and he looks frantically around for shelter. There’s a crypt with the gate half open and he slips inside, shuddering as the cool air engulfs him. Guess dying won’t take that long. Tired he fumbles in the dark until he finds a tomb and crawls up on it. Hopefully the rats can’t get up here. He really hates rats.

\---------

Angel’s been driving around for hours, going past Danny’s house a dozen times. Where else would the boy go? But the house remains dark, except for that light on the porch, which means he isn’t there. Yet.

It’s all over now, he knows. Not just their sordid relationship but everything. He should be running, getting away from here as fast as he can, because he knows he will never survive prison. A former cop, convicted of sexual abuse of his own child? Dead on the first day. Not that he deserves anything less, but he still has some inkling of survival instinct. But first he has to know that Spike is ok.

Maybe Danny’s mother would be willing to take the boy. They probably struggle enough just the two of them, but he’d find a way to support them. Sell the house then get a job somewhere away. Mexico or even Europe. Keeping just enough to survive and sending them the rest. And who knows, maybe his evil in-laws will croak and leave the boy some money. Not like they have any other heirs.

What’s he going to do if he doesn’t find him? Of course the boy doesn’t want to be found. At least not by him. His rapist. God, how could he do that to him? He raped him! Raped his own son. Raped his love. What the hell has happened to him? He hates rapists more than anything. Rapists and child molesters have always been his weak spot. He’d just see red and Martha would be dragging him off them, telling him to calm down. Has happened more times than he can remember. And now he has become the thing he hates the most. Is that why he’s never able to control himself around them? Because deep inside he knows that’s what he is and he’s trying too beat that part of himself to death?

By now he’s getting desperate. It’s started to rain and Spike must be freezing. If he hasn’t found the boy by morning he’ll have to call the police. Just tell them the boy is missing and then catch the next flight out of here. Martha can help them with more information, she has keys to their house and…

He pulls up on the sidewalk and collapses against the steering wheel. His chest is so tight it hurts as the sobs shake his body. What the hell is the point? He should just kill himself and get it over with. The shrill ringing makes him jump and he blinks confused. The second ringing gets him moving and he’s fumbling in his pocket for the phone, cursing as it slips from his fingers and down on the floor. Finally he’s pushing the button and bringing it to his ear, his heart hammering so hard he fears he might have a heart attack.

“Hello?” His voice is trembling and he grips the phone tighter.

“Hello? My name is Henry. I’m not crazy, if you think so, calling you at this time of night. Not even drunk, I’ll have you know.” The man coughs and blows his nose. “I just found this number in his notebook, marked daddy so I thought I should try it.”

“What? Who are you? Where are you?” Oh God, Spike! Someone found Spike!

“He’s sleeping in my spot, you see. It’s mine and everyone knows that. No one takes my spot.” Again a cough and in the background he can hear music playing and the clatter of dishes. “But he wouldn’t wake up so I just searched his pockets to see who he was. Kid that young shouldn’t be out alone, don’t you know that? I’d call the police but then they start snooping around and…”

“No! Don’t call the police! I’ll come get him. Where are you?” He’s not dead! For a moment there… He wouldn’t wake up? Please, dear Jesus…

“Well I’m at the diner, but he’s still in the crypt.” The crypt? Did the man say Spike was in a crypt? “In my spot. Nice spot it is too. I’ve got blankets and a nice pillow. He didn’t find those though, but I put the blanket over him anyway, since he was pretty cold and…”

“What diner? Where?” Angel has to fight to keep his voice calm. Can’t the man just spit it out?

“Lou’s Diner across the street. And he’s not happy ‘bout me using his phone. Probably want me to pay for it…”

“I’ll pay. Don’t worry. Across what street?” Fucking tell me, you idiot!

“From the cemetery of course. At St. Benedict’s…”

“I know where it is. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

On the way over there he thanks Jesus and Mary and all the saints he can remember. In a crypt! In a fucking crypt! He could have frozen to death, the stupid boy. If that drunk hadn’t… Oh God, let him be ok. Let him not be too cold or sick. If they have to go to a hospital they’ll ask questions and.... Maybe he can still fix this. No one knows. He’s still safe. No one knows. No one knows.

\---------------------

This is becoming a much too common thing, him carrying the boy into bed, weak and limp. He’s still cold, despite the fuming heat Angel had on in the car. The boy’s clothes are damp and when he pulls off the pants the blood makes him sick to his stomach. He’s gotten no response so far except a flutter of eyelids and a mutter that sounded almost like ‘Daddy’ when he took him in his arms and carried him out of the crypt. That freezing cold crypt. There is no doubt in his mind that a few hours longer lying wet in that place would have killed him. Stupid beautiful boy.

He has a familiar feeling of dèja-vu when he turns on the taps in the bathroom. That’s how it started and this is how it will end. A cleansing bath, like a re-birth. Return to innocence. Of course they can never do that completely but damn, he’s going to try his best to get them back to normal. Closing off his mind he carries the naked boy into the bathroom and sinks them down into the hot water. Spike stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up as Angel rubs heat into his slack limbs, making sure not to touch anything inappropriate. The trail of pink in the water has him sobbing into the boy’s hair. When he’s finally satisfied that the small body is as warm as it will get he pulls the plug and stands up, struggling to wrap Spike up in a towel. Leaving a trail of wet footprints he carries the boy back into bed and wraps him up in a thick duvet, wishing he could lie down beside him and spoon against his naked skin.

After some search he finally finds the thermometer only to discover it’s a rectal. Fuck, he can’t do that. Standing over the boy he feels his forehead with his palm, then kisses it the way his own mother used to do to determine a fever. He’s a bit hot, but not feverish. Maybe it will be all right. On the one hand he wishes Spike would wake up, just to show he’s ok; on the other hand he really doesn’t want to face him. What if he gets terrified and screams at him, telling his dad he hates him? If? There’s no if. He raped the boy, of course he will hate him. Defeated he sinks down on the chair and hides his face in his hands.

“Dad?”

Startled he looks up, straight into big blue eyes, watching him with fear. Here we go.

“Hello, William.” He braces himself for the onslaught, the hatred in the boy’s eyes, the deserved words that will cut him to the bone.

“I’m so sorry dad. I’m so sorry.” And the boy is crying in his arms, clinging to him like he is his saviour.

Angel is totally shocked. Why is he…? How can he blame himself?

“Will, don’t cry.” Such soft skin, so warm and sweet. “And don’t say you’re sorry. You didn’t do anything. It was me, it was all me, you know that.” Kissing his hair, bathing in his scent.

“I didn’t mean to bite you, I just got scared. I’m so sorry. Please, daddy.” The boy is seeking his mouth, lips wet with tears. Angel pulls away and stares at him.

“Will, _I_ hurt _you_. What are you talking about?”

“I bit you. I saw the blood. I just got scared, I’m sorry.” The boy bows his head, blushing with shame. “You did tell me it would hurt and I thought I was ready, but I wasn’t. I’m so sorry, daddy, I wanted to make it good for you.” Trembling hands are fumbling with his wet towel and he jumps up, horrified.

The boy gazes up at him with pleading eyes, tears running down his cheeks, lower lip wobbling, And without thinking Angel hears himself say:

“That’s all right, baby. You didn’t know any better.” 


	17. Chapter 17

The birds are beginning to sing and the sun is creeping up above the horizon. Angel lies perfectly still, staring at the same spot he’s been fixated on the whole night. Only now is he beginning to see it more clearly, not just a dark blur in all the other darkness. Not that he needs light to see the details, he knows it well enough. There’s Annie with her short blond hair. Embraced in her arms is William, smiling widely, innocence shining from his eyes. And above them, with one hand on Annie’s shoulder, the other ruffling the boy’s hair, stands Angel. The husband, the father. They all look so happy. A month later she was dead and everything changed.

The boy shifts in his sleep and whimpers, for the hundredth time. Angel holds him tighter and once again that seems to calm him down. A laugh that is. Angel, the protector. It was the best solution though, he tells himself. This way the boy will not have to face the horror of realising his father raped him. He would never be able to get over that. Now he thinks they just had a misunderstanding and _that_ he can work with. Easily.

He’d been determined to end this but as the night had slowly turned into morning the feel of the small body in his arms had gradually changed his mind. Can he really give this up? And how would Spike react if he rejected him in that way right after their ‘misunderstanding’? He’d be filled with guilt again, thinking he caused it somehow. Which he in a way did. How to handle that whole Danny situation, that’s tricky as well. And something has to be done about those panic attacks. Can’t have the boy revealing their secret accidentally during one of those. Besides, he hates to think of his son being scared of him like that. It’s not normal.

Glancing up at the clock he sees that it’s eight already. He’s almost catatonic with exhaustion, but he’s not been allowed any sleep. His mind kept playing scenarios in his head. Of Spike freezing to death in that crypt. Or being rescued but so far gone he had to be taken to the hospital and the doctors discovering his torn anus. Of the look on Martha’s face when he’d be brought in for questioning. Then there was the nagging voice that kept telling him what a bastard he was, what an utter fuck for letting his son take the blame. Took him quite some time to manage to shove that into the dark room and turn the key. _It’s for the best. It really is, can’t you see that?_

Slipping quietly from the bed, ignoring the slight whining from the boy as he leaves him, he walks into the kitchen and reaches for the phone. After calling the boy in sick at school he turns the phone over and over in his palm, before finally selecting Martha’s number.

“Hey, it’s Angel. Listen, can you cover for me today?”

“Wow there handsome, you sound dreadful. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just a little tired. Spike’s been sick all night and I hate to leave him alone.”

“Is it the flu? Been dropping the kids like flies at Manny’s school, I’m just waiting for it to knock on our door. Nasty one, I’ve heard.”

“That must be it then. Yeah, flu. Sounds just about right.”

“Are you sure you are all right? Angel, if there’s anything…”

“I said I was fine!” Gripping the phone tighter he closes his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just so fucking tired. Haven’t slept at all. You know how needy kids can be.” Opening his eyes again he stares right at Spike, standing naked in the doorway, a hurt look on his face. Without a word he turns and goes back to their room, his stiff walk making Angel cringe with guilt.

“No problem. I know all about that. As I said, if there’s anything…”

“Yeah, thanks. Gotta go. Talk to you later.” He hangs up before she has time to respond and runs into the bedroom. Spike is lying on his side, back turned toward him.

“Didn’t mean to keep you up, dad. Sorry.”

“Spike, I was only getting Martha off my back. She was asking too many questions, that’s all. I’d stay awake for weeks to make you feel better, you know that.”

“You don’t think I’m needy?”

“You need me, I need you. I’d say we’ve got ourselves a bargain.” He strokes the boy’s hair, smiling tenderly at him.

“Dad?” Spike’s voice is trembling but determent. “Do I have cancer?”

“What?” He almost starts laughing but Spike looks so scared that he suddenly realises the boy is serious. Taking Spike in his arms he hugs him tight. “Of course not. Why on earth would you think that?”

“Because… I don’t know.” Spike starts sobbing with relief, making Angel even more confused. What on earth has been going through the boy’s mind? Finally he calms down and looks up at his dad. “What happened yesterday, daddy? I just remember feeling pain in my whole body. So I thought maybe…”

Angel is quiet for a long time, wishing he’d spent the night planning this discussion instead of brooding over things that never happened.

“As far as I and Danny’s mom could determine you seem to have had a panic attack. It’s something that can happen if you suddenly feel very scared or stressed. According to Danny’s mother this is the second time you’ve had one.” Pulling back he looks Spike sternly in the eye. “And I think you know why.”

The guilty panic on Spike’s face gives him a satisfying twinge, but it changes quickly when he feels the boy tensing up and he starts gasping for breath.

“Spike! Stop it!” He shakes the boy slightly but it has no effect. “Listen, I’m not mad at you. A little disappointed maybe, but you don’t have to be scared.” Spike’s eyes roll back and Angel starts to panic himself. “Do you hear me? William?” Desperate he slaps the boy hard on the cheek. That finally seems to get to him and soon he is blinking, trying to catch his breath. “Calm down. Breathe. In-out in-out in-out.”

It takes some time before his breathing gets back to normal, and then he starts weeping, quietly whispering ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, daddy.’ Angel wants to tell him, that so he should be, but that may not be the best way to handle this.

“So you kissed him, or he kissed you, whichever. I should have known this would happen even if I told you explicitly not to do it.” The fear in the boy’s eyes makes his skin tingle. “You’re very young and not entirely in control of your emotions. Now, if you want we can end our relationship.” He ignores the boy’s pleading eyes, keeping his face void of any emotion. “You always have that option, I told you that from the beginning. You can get to know Danny better and when you’re fifteen you can start seeing each other, if that’s what you want. But…” He grabs the boy’s chin and holds him firmly, making sure he’s looking him straight in the eye. “…then it’s over for us. I’ll still be your father and I’ll still love you, but Will…” kissing him softly before continuing, his other hand stroking the boy’s thigh, slowly. “…I can’t be your daddy anymore. Not like that. It’s your choice, baby. Whatever you want, daddy won’t be mad.” Then he lets him go, leans back and waits, trying to keep his fear from showing.

Spike stares at him open-mouthed, breath hitching, pupils dilated with lust. He knows he’s not playing fair, but damn he just can’t loose him. Not now. When Spike reaches out for him, he has to fight not to smile.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, daddy.” He moves over to Angel’s lap, straddling him awkwardly. “Let me be your baby, daddy. I’ll do anything. Please, daddy, please.” Wet kisses on his lips, his face, reaching down for his nipples.

“Are you sure? You sure you don’t want Danny instead, baby? Daddy will understand. Daddy won’t be angry with you.” Every mention of the D-word has the boy squirming and panting like a dog, skin flushed pink, his rock-hard cock pushing against Angel’s belly.

“Don’t want Danny. Want you, daddy. Only you. Please.”

Smiling down at the boy’s pleading face Angel kisses him tenderly and holds him tight, keeping his touches as neutral as possible, even though he longs to push him down on the bed and lick him all over, longs to make him quiver under his touch, telling him once and for all who he belongs to.

But, no, this is not the time. He has to show his son that it isn’t just about sex. This is about love. About being meant for each other. Forever.

“That’s what daddy wants to hear.” Gently he frees himself from the clinging boy. “Now, I’m going to make us some breakfast. You just crawl back under the covers and rest.” He tucks his son in, stroking his hair until the guilt-ridden blue eyes start showing a spark of hope. “How are you feeling, anyway?”

“A bit tired, but I’m okay, daddy. Honestly.” Looking away he whispers, “I’m sorry I ran away.”

“Well, you should be. You scared me to death.” His face softens when he sees Will’s lip starting to quiver and he gives the boy a firm kiss. “You could have died, Will. A few more hours and you would have been dead. A freezing crypt? What the hell were you thinking?”

His voice is raising and he has to fight to calm himself down again, but the boy is already crying. “All right, all right. We’ll talk about it later. Don’t cry, baby. Daddy didn’t mean to get mad. Just never scare me like that again, promise?”

The frantic nodding reminds him of that same head bobbing between his legs and with a frozen smile he ruffles the blond hair, restraining his fingers from curling and gripping, pushing the boy down…

“Egg and bacon sound good? All right? Rest and I’ll bring it in to you in a minute.”

Once outside the door he presses the palms of his hands against his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Easy, easy. We’re going back to the basics. You can do this. Lay off the sex, lay off all that stuff. Except maybe a kiss or two. And hugs. Hugs are ok. They show love and affection and that’s what he’s trying to do. If this whole disaster has taught him anything it is that the boy isn’t ready to step into the adult world yet. Kids always think they can grow up so fast; they need someone to keep them in check. And that’s what he’s going to do, keep the boy in check, make sure he doesn’t do anything he’s not mature enough to handle.

Now all he has to worry about is his own control. It’s going to be hard, but he can do it. He lived alone with the boy for three years without any sex at all. Didn’t bother him in the least. If things got … tense, he could always let his fingers do a little walking. Of course they can’t share a bed anymore, no matter how much that hurts him. But he can’t trust himself quite enough for that. Like anyone could, with that pretty naked body rubbing against them.

As he flips the eggs and drains the grease off the bacon he plans his speech in his head. _“We have to wait until you’re ready.” “Of course I still love you, that’s why we have to do it this way.” “You’re still so young, we have all the time in the world.” “Please don’t cry, baby.” “Daddy loves you, of course he does. You’re his baby. His sweet baby.”_ Ok, maybe lay off the d-word and the b-word as well. Closing his eyes for a second he takes a deep breath before taking the tray in.

\-------------------------

Three days and so far so good. Fortunately he had to work the whole weekend, which kept their contact to the minimum. The first night he slept in Spike’s room, leaving the bigger, more comfortable bed to the exhausted boy. His son had been right, his bed really needed a new mattress. He’d went and bought the best one he could find for a reasonable prize, but Spike still whined about moving into his own room again.

He has to keep explaining to the boy the necessity of all these changes, but it’s hard, seeing that he hates this just as much. Every night he lies down alone in the big bed he wants to kick his own morals for keeping him away from his son’s warm and eager body. Every single kiss they share has him panting for more. Every touch sends electrifying vibes through his body, Spike’s warm slender fingers lingering a little too long, his breath quickening, his dark pupils staring at his dad. Sometimes lust has him trembling so hard he has to lock himself in the bathroom, relieving the tension from his body with fast, painful thrusts into his fist, biting his tongue every time the memory of being inside that tight little body sneaks up on him.

\----------------

Monday morning he is nervous and irritated. Having kept Spike at home both Thursday and Friday, this will be the boy’s first meeting with Danny after what happened. Not that he doesn’t trust him, the boy is far too scared to do or say anything wrong, but Danny on the other hand… It is a tricky situation. If he forbids Spike to see him not only will he rob the boy of the only friend he has but at the same time Danny’s mother will get concerned and that woman is far too insightful. But if he allows them to spend time together, the temptation is right in front of him all the time, risking another panic attack. And friends tend to talk. About all kind of stuff. Things can… slip.

They drive to the school in silence, the absence off the usual touching and groping making the trip seem long and strained. Spike keeps tapping his fingers on the dashboard and Angel has to fight not to yell at him or grab his hand in a crunching grip. Finally they’re there and he pulls up on the sidewalk, seizing Spike’s arm and holding him still when he reaches for the door. The boy looks back at him, startled by the intense look on his dad’s face. A minute goes by. Two. Spike is trembling but he doesn’t look away or flinch from the tightening grip on his arm. Slowly he nods then gives his daddy a sad smile. Angel seems to wake up from a stupor and lets the boy go, clenching his fist.

“It’s all right, daddy. It will be all right.”

Angel closes his eyes briefly before scowling at him. “You know you’re not supposed to use that word.”

“Sorry, dad. It just slipped.” The boy looks shamed but it’s hard to tell for sure because he keeps looking out the window. Following his gaze Angel sees Danny standing by the school, watching them.

“No. Nothing can ‘slip’. Nothing.”

Spike looks back at him and reaches out, stroking his hand with warm fingers. “I will be careful. I promise. I won’t do anything wrong. We won’t get caught.” He must notice the bulge growing bigger in Angel’s pants but he just smiles and gets out of the car. “Bye, dad.”

\----------------------

Not like there is anything to get caught about, Spike thinks as he walks toward Danny, a shy smile plastered on his face. Three days and he’s going crazy. No matter how he tries to plead with his dad, the man refuses to give him what he needs. What he craves. What he can’t live without. The light kisses only make him hungrier for more. And Angel actually thinks they can keep it like this until he’s sixteen? No. He can’t do that. He can’t even wait until he’s fifteen and that’s only four weeks away.

Lying alone in bed the last three days has given him plenty of time to think. Angel is pulling back because he feels guilty about their relationship. He obviously feels responsible for how it developed but Spike knows that’s not right. Wasn’t it Spike who kissed Angel first and not the other way around? Angel kept trying to tell him no, but he’d insisted. And Spike, not Angel, kept pushing it further. He wanted it, although obviously he wasn’t quite ready. He feels guilty about that, leading his dad on like that and then chickening out and running away when it wasn’t the romantic event he’d imagined it to be.

Well, he’s going to fix it. Make Angel see he has nothing to feel guilty about. If Spike’s the one doing the seducing, Angel can’t blame himself for what happens, can he? And he may be young but he knows what daddy likes, what turns him on and has him trembling for more. Four weeks. Well, he knows what he wants for his birthday. Now all he has to do is make sure he gets it.

As he joins Danny he gives him an apologetic smile and they stroll in, an awkward silence between them. Finally Danny stops and looks at him.

“Are you ok? You didn’t call or anything.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He looks away, embarrassed. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You really scared me. Mom too.”

“I’m sorry.” He looks around to see no one is around and lowers his voice. “Listen Danny, I like you. Very much actually. But it’s too soon.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know who I am or what I want and I’m just not ready to find out yet. Is that ok?”

Danny looks at him and for a moment Spike is terrified that his friend will just walk away, leaving him standing there like the sad loser he is. Then Danny smiles and Spike can feel the tension seeping out of his body.

“Of course it is. Don’t worry about it. Now, I bet you have the answer to that third question in our math assignment. How about we make a deal? Your answer for…” Danny searches his pockets until he comes up with a guitar nail, bitten and dent. Frowning slightly he continues, “… this very famous guitar nail gnawed at by California’s best musician ever.”

Their laughter rings through the hall as it gets filled with kids. This promises to be a good day.


	18. Chapter 18

Only 13 months left. 393 days. 9432 hours. 565.920 minutes. 33.955.200 seconds. Somehow calculating this is not helping. Martha keeps giving him strange looks, probably thinking he’s gone mad, scribbling away in his notebook with a frown. Slamming the book shut he sighs and then looks sharply at Martha. Of course she noticed. She notices everything.

“Something worrying you, Angel?” she asks, in a ‘stop moping and spill’ voice.

“No. Nothing. Just some… stuff.”

“Thinking about Spike?”

Fighting the urge to check his pants he puts on his most innocent face. “No. Why?” _‘Because you have an erection the size of the Eiffel Tower.’_

“I know that look.” She sighs with an understanding smile. “My Al gets the same way when he’s trying to work out how to pay the bills and still have enough left to put something in the kids’ college fund. Now Manny we probably won’t have to worry about. His football skills are gonna pull him through. That’s as good as guaranteed. Rhonda on the other hand…” She sighs again. “Well, we still have a few years. It’s a bitch though.”

“Yeah. Exactly. Just want the best for him, you know?”

“But he’s so smart. He’s bound to get a scholarship, isn’t he? If he keeps on getting those high grades, they might want to move him up yet another class.”

“They’ve already offered him that.” He can’t help the proud tone in his voice. Well, why should he? That’s his son, the next Einstein. “He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to be seen as the brainy nerd, I guess.” That reminds him, he hasn’t seen Spike wearing his glasses in a long time. Always liked those glasses, made the boy look so… young.

“He’s probably right. Kids can be so cruel. Just last week Rhonda came home crying because some girls laughed at her clothes. Not the right brand or something. Can you imagine? At twelve? I think I wore dungarees and sneakers when I was twelve. Now it has to be Diesel and Levis and God knows what all the others are called. No wonder kids get depressed and stressed out. Spike give you any such crap?”

“What?” Angel wakes up from his dream of Spike wearing nothing but glasses and a book, and stares at her nervously. “He’s not stressed!” Seeing the blank look on her face he backtracks, trying desperately to recall what she’d been talking about.

“I mean about clothes. Are you even listening to me?” She has ‘Men!’ written all over her face and he grabs the straw she threw him

“Martha, I might have a girly name, as you love to point out, but I have as much interest in clothes as… well any other guy.”

“Any other old man, you mean.” She laughs at the look he gives her. “Guys these days, well they’re just as bad as the girls. I swear Manny spends more money on clothes and hair products than the rest of the family put together.”

He’s about to shoot back at her that he can tell, although he knows it’s suicide to critique any woman’s appearance, let alone hers, but she cuts him off grimly. “And before you give me any crap about him being gay, everyone in his school is like that. You should see when I drive him to a party; it’s like a catwalk, except they generally don’t wear high heels.”

“Jesus, Martha! What do you mean, ‘before I give you any crap’? I wouldn’t do that, even if he was gay.”  
  
“He isn’t! All right, I’m sorry. Just that Al’s been… never mind.”

They sit in silence for a while, driving the streets slowly. Angel doesn’t really know why he’s so angry. It’s not like she accused him of being homophobic. Close enough though.

“Ok, I’m sorry. It’s just… you don’t seem very comfortable around them.”

He looks at her stunned. “Are you serious? I’m not homophobic. I have gay friends.”

“Really?” She snorts. “Name one.”

_Well, Spike. We’re **very** good friends. And Danny, although he’s more of a potential strangling victim than a friend._ “Martha, can we drop this?”

“See? Not one!” She pokes him with a satisfied look on her face. “Homophobe.”

“Martha!” He knows she’s teasing him but it still stings. Worse than being called old, worse than being accused of being a male chauvinist pig. Worse than being told he doesn’t understand because he is not black.

“You need to broaden your horizon, my friend. Besides, having a gay friend would do wonders for your interior decorating.” She grins, not noticing how irritated he’s getting.

“Martha.”

“Ok, that was a bad joke. But seriously, my friend Bert - and isn’t that a horrible name for a gay guy? - one of the best friends I’ve had. Whenever I feel frustrated with Al’s overdriving testosterones I call him and we go out for a couple of margaritas. Of course, I’m a woman so…”

“Spike’s gay.” Oh fuck!

“What?” She stares at him in shock and he wishes he could just turn back time and this time keep his damn mouth shut.

“Forget it. Can we talk about something else?”

“No, we fucking can’t! Pull over!” Startled by her sudden anger he complies, watching her warily as she takes a deep breath before turning to him. “He’s gay? Why on earth haven’t you told me?”

“It’s no big deal, ok? He’s fine, I’m fine.” He sighs and rubs his tired face. “We’re both very fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” But her voice is gentler now and he can feel a big lump forming in his throat. “That’s what’s been worrying you? Are the kids giving him trouble at school?”

“Yeah, some. Nothing he can’t handle. He’s tough.” _Yeah, right. Tough enough to have panic attacks and…_

It’s like she’s reading his mind because she huffs in disbelief. “Angel, he’s the biggest softy I’ve ever known. He carries his heart on his sleeve.” He starts to object but shuts his mouth again. She’s right. As always. “This can’t be easy for him.”

“He has a gay friend. Not boyfriend,” he adds quickly, “just friend. It helps.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” She’s obviously hurt and he hates it. But damn, he just couldn’t. “So, how long have you known?”

“Not that long. A couple of months.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so distracted. I’ve been worried about you, you know. You really should have told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” And suddenly he realises that he is. He could have told her about Spike without going into details about what had been happening. He should have trusted her and he should have trusted himself to keep quiet about the rest. “I’ve just been trying to come to terms with it all. I’m not exactly working with a manual here.”

“Don’t need a manual to know you can trust your friends, Angel.” But she’s back to being gentle and he can feel that lump in his throat again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What is there to talk about?” Rubbing away tears that are forming at the corner of his eyes, he stares at some kids playing basketball. They look happy. “He’s only fourteen…”

“Fifteen in a month, right?”

“All right, fifteen. Whatever. He’s still… you know… trying to figure things out.” _Like how to deep-throat without gagging._ “It’s not easy.”

“But he has a friend?” She nods, pleased. “Well, that’s good. Hasn’t had many of those, has he? Last time I saw him I remember thinking that that’s one lonely teenager.”

He stares at her. “You did?” Suddenly he feels more tired than he’s been in a long time. “You never told me.”

“I figured you knew.”

“I just though he liked being by himself.” _Or with me. ‘Want you, daddy. Only you.’_ “Well, I know better now but…”

She looks at him sharply. “Something happened?”

“He got beaten up pretty badly. That’s when he told me about… the rest.” A little lie, but it makes it sound more believable. “Not that he’s told anyone, they were just being mean to him anyway.” Just thinking of those bastards makes him want to drive over to the school, find the little fuckers and…

“An easy target. The accent, his size, his clothes…”

“Yeah, things like that.” He says absentmindedly, then frowns and looks over at her. “Wait… what’s wrong with his clothes?”

“You really didn’t hear a word I said earlier, did you?” And there is that ‘Men!’ look again. No one has that down to perfection as well as Martha.

“He hasn’t complained. They’re nice clothes. He even has a leather coat. Well, it was his mother’s and he doesn’t really wear it to school but…”

“Too precious, I guess.” She gives him a sad smile. “I remember it, sleeves down to his fingertips and sweeps the ground when he walks.”

“Yeah. Martha, am I…” His voice breaks and he looks away. “God, am I really such a terrible father?”

She lays a hand on his arm and squeezes it gently. “Angel, you’re a great father. You’re just a bit… out of touch. With him and… well, the times in general.”

“I didn’t use to be like that. I’m not old.” He fights the urge to look at himself in the side mirror. “Christ, I’m only 28. Wasn’t that long ago that I was a teenager.”

That makes her laugh and he can’t help smiling as well. “Angel, it’s a lifetime. Do you know how much the world has changed the last 15 years? Not just regarding fashion but everything. To be cool today you need to own all the latest CDs, not to mention the computer games.”

“Computer games?” He looks at her blankly.

“Don’t tell me. You don’t have a computer, do you? Do you at least own a play-station or an X-box? No? How about a DVD player?” She shakes her head at his embarrassed frown. “Oh yeah, you really are hip.”

“I’m hip enough to know you’re not supposed to say hip anymore.” Or what? For all he knows hip is the hippest word there is.

“Don’t get smart with me. So what does he do when he gets home from school?”

“I don’t know. Not much.” _Gives me blowjobs. Watches gay porn. Moans as I lick him all over._ “Listens to music. Reads. Does his homework.” _At least for the next 13 months/393 days/9432 hours/565.920 minutes/33.955.200 seconds._

“And you don’t find that odd? A fourteen year old boy just doing nothing?”

“Well, I do now! Damn! Are you saying it’s my fault he’s miserable?” _‘You know it is, you dirty old pervert.’ Shut up! It’s not like that. It’s love, it’s love, it’s love._

“I’m saying you might do something to make his life a bit easier, that’s all.” She gives him a grin and pokes him gently. “Besides, if he’s occupied he won’t go out looking for cute boys.”

“Martha!”

“Kidding! So this friend, he cute?”

“Will you just…” Sighing, he gives up. “Ok yes, he’s cute. And he’s in a band and apparently the coolest boy ever!” _Not jealous, so not jealous._

“Jealous, are we?” Startled he looks at her, but she doesn’t seem concerned in the least. “Well, that’s what happens. One day they’re sitting in your lap, looking at you like you’re God almighty and next thing you know they are slamming doors and calling you dude. Makes you wish you could just put them in a jar and keep them as your baby forever.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him... it’s just…” _That I have this great desire to strangle him for daring to kiss my boy._

“That Spike likes him a little too much?”

“Well, yeah. And I’m not sure I can trust him. He’s a nice boy, but he’s older and I know from experience that sixteen year old boys only have one thing on their mind.” _Which is how exactly different from what 28 years old men have?_

“Just talk to him and make it clear that you think Spike is too young to be doing anything yet.”

“I did. Well, I talked to his mother. Very nice woman by the way.” He adds absentmindedly, thinking about her warm kitchen, the sweet tea and her gentle voice. Shame about her being sick.

“She is?” Her neutral voice wakes him up. She’s trying her best to look innocent but a smile keeps tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Stop it!”

“You are touchy today. So what’s she like?”

“Martha, I swear…”

“Yeah, yeah… So is she hot?”  
  
…

\---------------------------

As soon as Spike gets into the car he can feel that Angel is in a strange mood. He seems more relaxed, but at the same time a bit nervous. Waving to Danny as they drive away he then turns to his dad and lays a warm hand on his thigh.

“Everything all right?”

“What? Yes, fine. We need to go shopping.”

Spike gives him a scrutinising look. “We bought groceries yesterday.”

“I mean shopping. As in clothes and stuff.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, and Spike looks down at what he’s wearing. Dark blue jeans, getting tight just about everywhere, a white buttoned shirt which he must admit is rather dorky, and the faded blue jacket with too short sleeves. New clothes wouldn’t be so bad. It’s just that Angel almost never takes him shopping. Last time was probably a year ago and that was only because his sneakers had worn through the soles.

“Ok.” He says warily. “What kind of stuff?” Is this a game, or another part in the plan of forgetting all that’s happened and pretending they’re just father and son, doing typical father and son things?

“I don’t know. Something you want?” Angel finally looks at him, a guilty smile plastered in his face. “If there was anything, you’d tell me, right?”

“I guess. You mean like for my birthday? We have plenty of time.”

“No, no, just for fun. You know, stuff that teenagers need. Like, I don’t know, games and…” He sounds so desperate that Spike can’t help smiling. So that’s what this is about.

“Has Martha been giving you one of her lectures?” He shakes his head and gives his dad’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Last time she messed with your head you made me eat McDonalds once a week for three months. It was horrible.”

“No. Nothing to do with her…” He looks over at Spike’s smiling face and gives up. “All right, all right she told me I’m a dinosaur with no fashion sense. Not in those words but…”

“Dad, I don’t care about clothes.” Although, he must admit it’s tempting to get something that looks remotely modern. “Or games…” But then he can’t help adding. “What kind of games were you thinking of?”

“I don’t know… computer games? I know we don’t have a computer, but I thought I could maybe buy you one.” The words come gushing out, relief evident in Angel’s voice. “A laptop maybe. You’ll need one anyway when you go to collage. And if we get one that can play DVDs…”

Spike strokes his dad’s thigh soothingly. “Dad, I love you anyway.”

“What?!” Angel stops at a red light and turns to stare at him.

“You don’t need to buy my love, daddy. I don’t need anything.” Tilting his head, he bites his lip and adds sadly. “Anything but you, that is.”

“I’m not…” He sighs and cups Spike’s face in his hand. “Will, that’s not why I’m doing this. I want to give you things you like because… Well, because I love you too, and you deserve them.”

They stare at each other, their breath getting shallower and Spike’s hand is creeping higher while Angel’s thumb is stroking Spike’s parting lips. He’s just about to let it slip into his mouth when someone honks a horn behind them and Angel flinches away. Fumbling with the gears he takes off and they drive in silence. Finally Spike turns to him and nods.  
  
“All right then. Let’s go buy a laptop. You sure we can afford one?”

Angel gives him a happy smile and turns at the next lights, heading for the mall. “Don’t worry about it. Not like we spend that much on a daily basis.”

Smiling, Spike leans back and closes his eyes. This will probably be easier than he thought.


	19. Chapter 19

They end up buying clothes anyway. Two pair of jeans, a bunch of t-shirts and a few long sleeved as well. Every time Spike disappears into the changing rooms to try on something new Angel gets lost in images of him behind that curtain. He’s pretty sure he’s not wearing any underwear. They should probably pick up a few boxers as well. Maybe silk. Black.  
  
“So what do you think, daddy?”

Startled he looks up, staring at the boy in front of him. If he thought Will was beautiful before, well it is true the clothes make the man, because wow! Those faded jeans hanging low on his hips, that midnight blue shirt hugging his chest…

“I told you not to call me that,” he mumbles, his eyes lingering on that strip of flesh showing when Spike stretches his arm over his shoulder to fix the tag.

“Sorry, dad. I just forget.” Spike pulled the t-shirt down with a frown. “Maybe I should get one size bigger. It’s a bit snug.”

“No! That one is just… perfect.”

Walking back to the changing room Spike bites back a grin. Four weeks? If Angel makes it four days he’ll be surprised.

\----------------

“Ice-cream? Before dinner?”

“Oh, come on dad. Just a small one.” Spike’s puppy eyes melt his heart and he agrees with a smile. Not like they do this very often, actually they should make this a habit. Just going out and spending time together. Father and son.

He pays for the two ice-cream cones and they sit down at one of the small tables. Spike gives him a grateful smile, before quickly catching an escaping drop with his tongue. Then he starts working the ice-cream, sometimes popping it into his mouth, biting into it, but mostly licking it, running his tongue in circles around and around until the ice-cream is formed like something Angel is having great trouble with at the moment.

At first he thinks the boy is trying to provoke him but Spike’s innocent eyes make him realise he’s seeing erotica in something quite innocent. Taking a deep breath he starts eating his own ice-cream which is by now melting and dripping through his fingers onto the table. As he puts his fingers in his mouth to swipe them clean he looks up and catches the boy staring at him, ice-cream hovering in front of his lips. He licks his fingers clean, watching Spike’s eyes darken and his face flush. _That’s it, boy. Remember who you belong to._ They might be on a hiatus but that doesn’t mean Spike should forget what he’ll eventually get if he behaves.

Slowly Spike starts licking the ice-cream again, still staring mesmerised at Angel’s mouth, not seeming to notice the way he himself is devouring the treat like it’s something else all together. Angel is getting harder and harder and damn, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Finishing the ice-cream quickly he wipes his mouth and fingers and stands up awkwardly.

“I have to go to the rest room. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Spike nods and puts the last piece into his mouth. “Ok, daddy.”

Angel opens his mouth to berate him but changes his mind and hurries away. Spike licks his fingers clean, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

\-----------------------

“And this one has a DVD burner as well. Only weighs 3 lbs and the battery lasts for 5 working hours…”

Angel follows the salesman, feeling completely lost. Who’d have thought buying a laptop would be so hard? He looks over at Spike who nods and asks questions like he’s done this every day of his life. But he keeps checking the prices and his face is getting worried. They do cost a bit more than Angel anticipated… ok, they cost double of what he anticipated but he can’t back out now, can he? And he didn’t lie, they can afford it, he’ll just work a few extra shifts the next month. Ok, a bunch. But it’s worth it.

Spike is tugging at his sleeve, putting on his bravest and most loving smile. “Dad, we can just buy a used one. I don’t need all this stuff, really.”

“Nonsense. Don’t worry about the price, I said we can afford it. Now you choose what you want, baby.”

The salesman gives him an odd look and he suddenly realises what he said. Blushing, he starts looking at some computer games, leaving the boy to make his choice. He finally picks one of the cheapest ones that still has all the main features. Angel decides to let it slide, sighing inwardly in relief. Not quite as many extra shifts as he feared.

The purchase includes internet connection and a few games. It burns a hole in his credit card but Spike’s smile makes it more than worth it. Together they walk to the car, Spike babbling about all the cool things he can do with his new toy and Angel thinking about all the hot things he’d like to do to his toy. When they get into the car Spike leans over and gives his dad a tight hug, kissing him right on the lips.

“Thank you, daddy… I mean dad. Thank you so much. You’re the best father in the whole world.” Then he sits back and starts flicking through the brochures, seemingly oblivious to the tears in his dad’s eyes.

\----------------------

When they get home Spike hurries into his room, dumping all the bags and the big box on his bed. He itches to try out the laptop but takes care of the clothes first, picking what to wear now and putting the rest away in his closet. Swaggering into the kitchen he advances his dad, who is chopping vegetables, from behind and puts his arms around him.

“This is all so great, dad. I love it, all of it. The clothes, the laptop, the games. I love you so much.”

His dad stands frozen for a moment before turning around and hugging him back. His hands wander over the new t-shirt, feeling its softness and the lean muscles underneath. Then he buries his nose in Spike’s hair and inhales deeply. Spike smiles against his dad’s chest. Angel loves the smell of his boy. Like a blend of innocence and seduction, he once told him. He clutches Angel’s waist, laying his ear on the chest, listening to his heartbeat. Baboom, baboom. They stand together for a long time and as Angel’s hands continue to stroke him Spike can hear the beat quicken. Baboom, baboom, baboom. He inches closer, knowing Angel can feel his erection poking his thigh. Baboom, baboom, baboom, baboom. Oh, this is so easy. Taking a deep breath he starts trembling, pressing his face against Angel’s damp shirt. By now his dad’s heart is racing, and a soft gasp escapes his lips.

“Daddy? Can I kiss you? Is that all right?”

His voice is shaky and he looks up, biting his lower lip. Angel stares at him, pupils wide with desire. “What? Yes. Kissing… kissing is all right.”

Spike’s trembling hot lips meet his and Angel hitches his breath. Raising his arms up Spike wraps them around Angel’s neck, dragging him down to his level. The kiss gets deeper and deeper and slowly they’re sliding to the floor, Spike settling into Angel’s lap, grinding his cock into his stomach. Oh God, this feels so good, so very, very good. He’s so over-stimulated from the lack of sexual contact with his daddy that he’s close to coming when Angel suddenly pulls back, a look of horror on his face.

“We can’t do this! Will, I told you we couldn’t do this.”

Spike bites his lip, gazing at him with dark eyes. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I just miss you so much.” Hiding his face in his hands, he sobs. “Why don’t you want me anymore? Don’t you love me?”

Angel reaches out and strokes his hair, his hand shaking. “Oh baby, you know I do, but I’ve told you why. We have to wait, we have to…”

Spike looks up at him with wide red eyes. “But my cock is so hard it hurts! Please, daddy. Make it stop hurting.” And he grinds himself against his dad’s stomach searching for more friction.

“I can’t, baby. You know I can’t.” Angel closes his eyes, breathing deeply.

“I think I’m bursting! Please, daddy. Please!” He starts fumbling with his dad’s zipper but Angel seizes his wrists and holds him still.

“No. You’ll have to do it yourself, Spike.” Placing a wet kiss on the boy’s forehead he then pushes him away. “You know how.”

Almost sobbing Spike pops the buttons on his jeans and pulls himself out. He’s indeed engorged and the sight makes Angel lick his lips. Mesmerised he stares as the boy’s slender fingers start pulling at the foreskin, then drawing it back, revealing the purple head, leaking with precum. Spike keeps his eyes closed, biting his lower lip as he works his cock. Gently at first but soon he speeds up, the sound of flesh slapping echoing in the kitchen. Then with a soft cry he comes, strands of semen spilling on the floor. Angel stares at the white spots before finally looking up and straight into Spike’s flushed face, covered in tears.

“I’m so sorry, daddy. It’s just so hard not being allowed to touch you.” His miserable face makes Angel pull him into his arms, hissing as the hot body brushes against his own erection.

“I know, baby. I know. But we can’t.” Angel is almost weeping by now. “You’ll just have to take care of it yourself for now.”

“But it doesn’t feel as good as you.” Spike sobs into his ear. “I miss you touching me.”

“I know. I miss you too.”

As his dad strokes his hair with a shaking hand, Spike allows himself a small smile.


	20. Chapter 20

All during dinner Angel keeps an eye on Spike. The boy looks up every now and then, smiling bravely at his dad, but there’s a sadness covering him like a blanket. They eat their food in silence but then suddenly Spike straightens, a genuine smile on his face.

“Can we hook up the computer after dinner?”

Angel is so relieved to see that the misery has passed for now that he can only nod. When they have finished eating they put the dishes in the sink before going to Spike’s room. The boxes are still lying where Spike left them so it seems only natural to sit down next to them on the bed. Spike kneels in front of him inspecting the boxes and Angel has to fight not to grab him by the hair and push his face down to his groin. The bed is soft underneath him and suddenly he feels so very tired. He watches as Spike starts unpacking, every item revealed making him happier and so childlike in his enthusiasm that Angel can’t help smiling. After receiving such a gift Spike is probably really grateful. Grateful enough to want to repay his daddy somehow. God, just look at those soft lips and that pink tongue darting out to moisten them. The things they can do …

“Dad, can you hand me that booklet? Dad? Daddy?”

With a start Angel comes back to the present and stares at the boy in confusion. Following his gaze he reaches for the brochure and hands it over. Their fingers touch. For a moment they stay frozen, feeling each other’s heat, before Angel snatches his hand back and brings it to his lap, covering it with the other. He still can’t take his eyes of the boy, the boy who is looking at him with eyes that shine with innocence and youth while at the same time holding such deep understanding and love that Angel half wonders who is the adult in this relationship.

“You look tired, dad. Why don’t you just lay back and rest while I work this out? It’s gonna take some time.”

Angel blinks a few times then looks down on the pillows. They look soft and warm and he knows they smell of Spike. Which is why he should stand up and walk into his own room, or go lie down on the couch, or… Spikes’ hand stroking his hair makes him realise he is already lying with the boy beside him, snuggling up to him like a cat and no force on earth could make him move now. At the back of his mind these constant blackouts are worrying him a bit, but those thoughts are quickly pushed away by the sensation of Spike’s warm breath on his neck, Spike’s hand stroking his chest, Spike’s leg sliding over him, Spike’s cock pushing into his thigh. With an effort he opens his eyes and turns to look at the boy. He is gazing at his dad adoringly, his face still tainted by a touch of sadness.

“I should go lay down in my own bed.” But he makes no move to do so and they both know he won’t.

“You shouldn’t be so close to me.” But he doesn’t tell him to let go.

“You are so beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His words make Spike hitch his breath and his eyes are now so dark Angel wouldn’t really be surprised if they turned completely black.

“Please don’t kiss me. Please.” But he doesn’t move away when Spike’s lips get closer to his and when they meet he is lost. His boy’s mouth is so soft and sweet and he tastes like every bit of innocence Angel wants to devour. He grabs the back of Spike’s head and pulls him forward with such force that he can feel the boy’s lip split and the taste of blood on his tongue. They cling to each other, Spike’s hand roaming all over Angel’s chest under his sweater, his hips pushing against Angel’s thigh, grinding his denim-clad cock as hard as he can against his daddy’s body.

“Oh God, baby. You feel so good.” He mumbles against the boy’s lips and Spike’s relieved sobs echo in his mouth.

“I love you so, daddy. Please. I need you. I want you. Please, daddy, please.”

It doesn’t take long before they are naked, body sliding over body, every inch of skin being touched and tasted. Angel’s cock is throbbing with need but when Spike takes him in his hand and starts stroking him he tries to pull away.

“We shouldn’t…” Spike’s tongue in his mouth cuts him off and again he feels himself falling. When the boy lets him go again he is panting and his skin seems to be on fire.

“It’s all right, daddy. I’m ready now. I’m not a child anymore. Do you want me?”

All he can do is nod, because God, does he want him. He always wants him. Spike lies down on his back, pulls up his knees and smiles at him.

“Do it, daddy. Please. I want you to. I’m ready. I’m ready for you.”

Dazed Angel gets up on his knees, he fumbles for his pants and finds the lube he has been carrying around unused for four days now. This time he will make it good, make it right. Show the boy just how much he loves him. Squirting a generous amount onto his fingers he reaches down and slides them down between the pale cheeks. The boy bucks up as the cold lube touches his puckered entrance and he is gasping for air.

“Oh God, daddy. That feels so good. Please, inside me. I need something inside me.”

When the first finger pushes through the boy grips the cover, twisting it in his hands. His eyes flash open and he stares at his dad, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. The second finger makes him close his eyes again and grit his teeth, but he pushes against the intrusion, panting ‘More.’. A third finger and he is slamming his fists down on the bed, whimpering and begging.

“Please, daddy. I want you. Please. I need your cock inside me. Please, daddy. Fuck me.”

Angel is thrusting his fingers inside, stretching the boy. This is going to be so good. Just what he needs. Just what they need. Finally he pulls them out and Spike sobs at the loss.

“Sshh, baby. Daddy will make it good for you. Daddy will make everything all right. Just relax, baby. Just relax.”

He makes sure his cock is slick with lubricant and then slowly starts pushing. Slowly, slowly, until with a pop he breaks through the barrier. God, he’s tight! Spike is gasping beneath him, staring up at him with those big blue eyes shining with love and lust.

“Is that all right, baby? Does it feel good?”

Spike nods frantically and then he starts trying to push up against his dad but Angel holds him still.

“We’re doing it slowly this time. Just relax as well as you can, ok?”

Another frantic nod and then he slowly starts unclenching, loosening the iron grip on Angel’s cock. He’s trembling from the effort though and his fists are again twisted in the covers. When Angel starts pushing slowly inside Spike’s eyes roll back and his moaning gets loader. Angel has to fight not to slam into him, but this is almost better, feeling the boy stretch to fit him in, watching his face as he takes in each inch. God, he’s beautiful like this. His cheeks are flushed, his lips are bruised and swollen, a spot of blood where they split earlier, his back arching of the bed, his thighs trembling from the pleasure. Like a perfect picture of innocence lost and that thought makes Angel gasp as he thrusts in those last inches.

They stay still for a long time, both trying to adjust to the sensation before completely loosing it. Then Angel pulls slowly out, almost all the way before pushing in again. Slowly but persistently, in-out, in-out. Spike is whimpering beneath him, biting his lip and Angel just has to get it too. Their kiss is more passionate than ever before and Spike sucks on his tongue so fiercely, like he’s trying to swallow all the misery of last week, sucking all the guilt and sadness away. With a gasp he finally lets go, gripping his dad’s arms, his fingers digging into his skin.

“Please, daddy. More. I need more.” He embraces his dad’s waist with his legs and pulls him deeper. “Please, dad. Fuck me harder.”

The pleading makes Angel’s cock swell even more and he increases the speed until he is slamming into the boy, fucking him so hard he sees stars. Changing his angle he searches for that special spot and when Spike yells out he knows he’s there. Their movements get more frantic and Spike reaches for his cock and starts fisting it hard and fast. His face is scrunched up and Angel can tell he’s close. He can feel his own orgasm building up but holds it off until Spike gets that frozen look on his face, just when it’s hitting him. Then he leans down and bites hard into Spike’s shoulder, letting his own release come.

They seem to ride it forever and God, it’s so good, so incredibly blissful that they never want it to end. When they finally get their breath back Angel rises up on his elbows and they stare at each other. Then they start kissing like they’re drowning for each other’s taste, fingers entangled in damp hair, sweaty and sticky bodies glued together.

“God, I love you. I love you so much, Will. I’ll never let you go. Never let you… “

  


The tiny sob makes Spike look up from the laptop. He wonders if he should wake his dad up, but he really wants to finish this. Who’d have guessed computers could be so much fun? As his dad’s face relaxes again he turns back to the game, smiling as he shoots down another Nazi.


	21. Chapter 21

When he wakes up he feels disoriented. The room is dark and there’s a warm body snuggling up next to him. For a moment he panics until he is totally sure that yes, it was only a dream and no, he didn’t fuck the boy until he screamed his name. He sighs in relief but it’s so false he wonders if he really should bother.

_You know you wish it had been real. You know you want to kiss him, own him, fu… make love to him until all he knows is your love. Feel that tight body around you, hear him gasp, watch his face scrunch up in a mixture of pleasure and pain._

He’s already hard so he reaches down…

Wasn’t he dressed when he fell asleep? Spike must have undressed him… or maybe it wasn’t a dream? Maybe it really did happen and… The small body shifts beside him and he freezes. A slender arm moves over his chest before going slack again. Angel turns his head and buries his nose in the wisps of hair tickling his chin. The boy smells so good. Like youth and innocence mixed with sexual desire.

His hand reaches for his cock again and he starts stroking himself slowly. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t even be here, in this bed, with the boy warm and sweet pressed up against him. He shouldn’t be touching himself when the boy could wake up any minute and…

_And what? You know he wouldn’t turn away, wouldn’t be scared, wouldn’t even think of saying no if you placed his hand on your cock instead of your own. He wants it. You want it._

What difference does a year make anyway?

The boy is mature for his age. He’s a lot more grown up then Angel was himself at that age. Memories of playing football and riding his bike emerge but no memories of sex or even thinking about sex. He didn’t kiss a girl until he was sixteen. A boy when he was eighteen. Lost his virginity just shy of twenty.

But it’s different now. Kids today… they grow up so fast. Hell, the stuff Spike sometimes talks about, it’s like listening to a little old man. Politics, classical music, the fucking war in Rwanda or wherever that week’s crisis is. Sometimes he makes Angel feel stupid because he doesn’t have a clue where that country is or who that world famous person might be. Stupid but proud. This is his kid. His little Einstein. His boy.

He groans and his strokes speed up.

So, a year. What is likely to change in a year? Spike will probably grow a bit, not much more though. His mother was a tiny little thing. Add some muscle, fill into his clothes a bit better. His boxers…

He reaches up to lick his hand wetter before continuing.

But that’s the physical part. What about the emotional part, the psychological part? Spike does have a certain naiveté to him. An innocence that he will most likely lose as he gets older. Grow harder, tougher, better at hiding his emotions. That’s what age and experience does to you. He won’t be a little boy anymore.

His fingers curl into a fist in Spike’s hair.

The thought of Spike losing his innocence makes him want to cry. It’s what he loves most about him. The way he looks at him with those big blue eyes, like Angel is his idol, his God. The way he gasps in surprise and delight every time Angel leads him to new heights of pleasure. The way he sobs with happiness as the waves of orgasm wash over him, chanting in a childish voice of wonder, ‘Daddy, daddy, daddy…’

He shudders and bites his lip to muffle the cry that threatens to erupt. His release spills over his hand. His fingers tremble in Spike’s hair. When he opens his eyes the boy is curled up on his chest, still asleep, drops of cum splattered on his arm.  
  
\-----------------

Spike wakes up to the smell of bacon. He sighs. Another one of his dad’s guilt breakfasts. Not that he minds the food but he does mind the shameful look in his dad’s eyes, the slumping shoulders, the forced smile. Jeez, not like they’d actually done anything.

Weary he pulls on the new jeans and the same soft t-shirt as yesterday. In the bathroom he takes extra care with his hair and after a brief hesitation he reaches into his pocket. He’s never done this before but he used to watch his mom all the time and lately Danny. It can’t be that hard, can it?

His first attempt is disastrous and he has to rub with soap to get it off, his eyes stinging. The next one is a bit better but still he looks more like a hooker. The soap gets in his eyes and he’d cry if he wasn’t so damn determined to get it right. Slowly with a steady hand and when he stands back and looks at himself in the mirror this time the effect is mind-blowing. He takes a few extra seconds to practise his smile before turning around and leaving the bathroom.

\-----------------

“There you are, I thought you’d never get…” Angel looks up and freezes. The blood in his veins starts pumping faster and faster, woosh-woosh-woosh in his ears. His chest hurts. His cock hurts. His skin breaks out in flushes and sweat. “What have you done?”

The coquettish smile disappears from Spike’s face and he steps back, fear in his eyes. “I just…” He pauses, then takes a deep breath and looks straight up at his dad again. “It goes with the new look. Something wrong?”

Angel stares at him. Wrong? What could be wrong? Certainly not the soft white curls that make Spike look like he just got out of bed after a night of sweaty fucking. Or the long sooty lashes casting dark shadows of desire onto his cheeks. And not at all the carefully supplied eyeliner that makes the blue eyes look even bigger and brighter, like the blue sky caught in the eyes of a newborn child. Together with the tight red t-shirt and the faded jeans… If the most beautiful angel in Heaven merged with the wickedest devil in Hell it would look exactly like this.

Spike is still standing there, watching him, and Angel realises he’s waiting for an answer but he can’t for the life of him remember what the question was.

“Erm… it looks great. You look great. Very… Goth.”

Spike rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the happy smile and he walks over to the table and sits down, picking up his knife and fork. “If you keep on feeding me like this I’ll become too fat to wear any of the clothes you bought me.”

“I’m sure I can manage to keep you in shape.”

Spike looks up and quirks an eyebrow at him and he blushes as he realises what he said. “I meant…” Then he stops because they both know exactly what he meant and there’s no use in denying it. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s ok, dad. I don’t mind.” Spike grins and turns back to his pile of food and Angel can’t help staring at the curls on his neck. They look so soft, so innocent, so utterly sinful that he thinks he could come just from stroking them. Hesitantly he reaches out, his hand hovering for a few seconds before his fingers start bending down, seemingly by their own accord. So soft, like stroking a kitten. He feels Spike shiver and his skin pulls together in tiny goosebumps. He’s stopped eating and Angel knows that if he could see his face his eyes will be closed and his lips slightly parted to allow tiny puffs of air to escape. He closes his eyes for a second, feeling himself grow hard. _Step away. Just let him go and step away. Just let him…_

“You look better than great. You look absolutely delicious. What are you trying to do to me? What, Will?” His voice is hoarse and low.

“I’m not trying… I just wanted to…”

Angel leans down, lips almost brushing Spike’s ear. “Or maybe you did it for Danny? Is that it? Prettying yourself up for your boyfriend?”

“No! I…” Spike’s head falls back, eyes closed, cheeks flushed. “You, daddy. I did it for you.”

“For me. Because you’re mine.” The low growl makes Spike shiver and he starts panting softly.

“Ye-he-es.”

“But you know we can’t.” He runs his fingers into the blond hair. God, so soft. When his fingers curl, tugging on the strands of hair caught between them, Spike whimpers. This is wrong, so wrong, but he can’t stop. “So why? Why, Will? Why are you teasing me like this?”

“Not… teasing. Just…” He pauses, then adds with a voice so low Angel can hardly hear the words. “I don’t want you to forget me.”

“Forget you?” Angel pulls back, watching a tear run down the side of Spike’s face and into his ear. Whatever he expected it wasn’t this.

“I don’t want you to get bored waiting for me and find someone else.” Spike opens his eyes, lip quivering. “I’m sorry I’m not old enough for you, daddy. If you get tired of waiting and…” His breath hitches. “I won’t blame you.”

Oh shit. Angel turns him round, sinks down on one knee and gazes into his eyes. “Will, baby, no one could ever take your place. I can wait. For as long as it takes.” And as he says the words he can almost believe them.

“Why do we have to wait, dad?” Spike leans forward and grab his stepfather’s hands, skin hot, eyes desperate. “Plenty of guys in my class are already having sex. Lots of it.”

Angel can’t help smiling. “Is that what they say? Believe me, half of those stories are nothing but bull. But Will, even if they are telling the truth, they’re all a year older than you.”

Spike shakes his head, his grip tightening. “But no one knows that. They all think I’m just small for my age. Which I am but…”

No, you’re just perfect, son. “Your teachers know. The police would know. I know this is hard but you’re too young, Will.” He brings the boy’s hands up and kisses the fingers one by one. They’re trembling and he wants to suck them into his mouth. “It’s not just legally wrong it’s morally wrong. You’re too young to know what you want.” _Please, Will. You have no idea how close I am. Don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall._

“And they’re not? I’m the smartest one in the class, dad. Most of those guys are about as mature as twelve year olds.” Spike pulls his hands away, too angry to notice the battle going on right in front of him. “And they can go and screw every fucking girl in town without anyone saying anything but I can’t kiss you?” There are tears in his eyes but his lips are set in a thin line of anger. “How fucking fair is that?”

Angel stares down at his hands. They’re big and strong. A father’s hands. They should smell of toast and orange juice. He knows they smell of cum.

Slowly he stands up. The boy is not wrong. Wasn’t he himself thinking along those same lines this morning? A year. Would it matter? Would it really matter? He can feel his lips tingling to soften the angry and hurt tension away, his cock twitching to be touched by the fingers that are clenched into fists. One year. One fucking year. For what?

A voice is screaming inside his head but he doesn’t listen. Taking a deep breath he fixes his eyes on the boy, licking his lips. “I thought I told you not to use that word?”

Spike blinks, a look of confusion on his face but then his gaze flickers down and he stills. One breath, two breaths and he looks up, blue eyes big and innocent. “I’m sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out.”

“That’s no excuse and you know it.” Reaching out he entangles his fingers in the boy’s hair and tugs. Hard. “Daddy is very disappointed in you.” The gasp almost makes him smile.

“I’m so sorry, daddy. Please.” Spike slides off the chair and falls to his knees, his head held high by his father’s tight grip.

“I might have to punish you.” His left hand fumbles with his belt and the boy trembles but his gaze doesn’t falter. In fact his eyes are growing darker and darker although they are trying hard to keep their innocence.

“Please, daddy.” Slim fingers reach out. “Don’t be mad.” Oh Christ. So eager, so warm. “I’ll do anything, I’ll…”

The loud ringing makes them both jump. Angel blinks, then his eyes widen and he lets go of Spike’s hair like it’s burning his hand and steps back. “Oh god.”

“Daddy?”

“Don’t say that. Don’t… oh god.” _Rrrrring, rrrrring._

“Dad? Why are you…?” Realisation dawns and he starts shaking his head. “No. No, dad! Don’t do this to me!”

“I’m not. I’m not gonna do this to you. Go put on your jacket and wait in the car.” _Rrrrrring, rrrrring._

“Dad! Please!”

“Now!”

The boy is crying as he stomps out of the kitchen. Shaking Angel waits until he hears the door slam before he picks up the phone. “Yeah?”

_“Thought I’d missed you. Listen, can you come straight down to the docks? Pier 51”_

“Sure. No problem.”

_“Angel, are you all right? You sound…”_

“I’m fine.” And he hangs up. In the tree outside a bird is chirping. His dick hangs limp and shameful out of his open zipper.


	22. Chapter 22

He refuses to look at his dad, just pulls the leather coat tighter around his body and stares out of the window. He wants to curl up and cry but he won’t. He’s not a child. His dad might not see it but he hasn’t been a child in a long time. You grow up pretty quick the day you give your father a blowjob. Stepfather. Whatever.

He ignores his dad’s pleads of ‘Will’ and ‘Dammit, Spike! You know we can’t’ and ‘Please look at me’. Why? Why should he? All his dad sees is a boy, a child not old enough to know his own mind. Beside if he does he won’t be able to hold the tears back.

They arrive at the school and he gets out, slamming the door behind him. Doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t wave, doesn’t kiss him. Just stalks across the playground, coat billowing behind him. He’s filled with anger. He feels bigger, stronger, meaner…

So alone his heart is breaking.

The kids stare at him, stepping back to make way for this bad ass and what has he done to Spike? Spike that walked with his head bowed, eyes turned away to avoid any kind of confrontation. Spike that even when he’d ditched his glasses and bleached his hair still was a loser, a geek because he couldn’t get rid of that scared rabbit look in his eyes that just begged for them to laugh at him, to kick him, to remind him just how small and insignificant he was.

It’s not the coat. He’s worn that before and got laughed at. It’s not the new clothes or the hair or the make-up although combined it does have its effect. Clothes do not so much make the man as the man wears the clothes. And this once Spike has the persona that fits them. His anger gives him the confidence of a man that doesn’t give a damn, an aura of don’t-mess-with-me-or-I’ll-fuck-your-shit-up, a sense of power brought on by not having anything to lose. He’ll show his dad he’s not a boy, not a child.

Danny stands by the entrance, watching him with a worried frown on his face. When Spike reaches him he doesn’t stop, just grabs his hand and drags him with him, along the halls and then into the boys’ restroom. One glare at the tiny tot washing his hands and he’s running out of there, not even taking the time to turn off the water or dry his hands.

“Spike, what’s… omph.”

He kisses Danny hard, arms that for once feel strong pinning him to the wall, forcefully grinding their hips together. He can feel Danny respond, his lips part, sucking Spike’s tongue in, his cock hardening in his pants. Spike pushes his thigh up against it because no matter how much he can fool his brain he can’t fool his body. His cock lies limp down his thigh, making him even angrier. He kisses Danny with a fierce desperation as his hands move down to fumble with the zipper on Danny’s lose khakis. Danny pulls away from his mouth, trying to hold him back but he only attacks his neck instead, sucking it as he slips a hand inside the pants, quickly finding Danny’s hard erection. Jerk, jerk, jerk. Hard. Fast.

“Spike, no. Spike, calm down. Spike!” Danny grabs him by the wrist and stops his movements. “We’re not doing this.”

“What?!” Spike jerks back, the earlier rejection still stinging him painfully and this one adds to it. But he doesn’t want to feel pain, he wants to feel anger. Anger is power. Anger is strength. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Danny closes his eyes for a second, breathing deeply. “Yes. But not now and not here.”

“Why?” He’s hissing like an alley cat, fists clenched. He wants to punch Danny’s face, hurt him like he himself is hurting. No one wants him. Why doesn't anyone want him? “Because someone might catch us? Might find out you’re a fucking fag?”

“No. Because you don’t want this. You just think you do.” He reaches up to cup Spike’s face but he wrenches away and starts pacing the small room.

“Fuck you! I’m tired of people telling me what I want and what I can or can’t do. I’m not a child.” He kicks the nearest stall, then slams it with his palm, again and again. “Fuck you. Fuck both of you.”

Danny doesn’t flinch, just watches him with a sad look in his eyes. “I know you’re not a child, Spike. What happened? Did your dad…?”

“My ‘dad’, my precious ‘dad’… He thinks I’m too young. He thinks I don’t know what I want. All he talks about is how wrong it is and what the teachers might say and what the fucking police might say. I don’t care. I don’t fucking care.”

“Spike, what? What is wrong? Us?” Danny shakes his head in confusion. “Why would the police…?”

“No, not us. There is no us, ok? Because I promised… I promised…” He freezes. _“Nothing can ‘slip’. Nothing.”_ Oh god. All his bravado crumbles, his anger pushed out by fear so strong he thinks he might piss himself. He’s telling. He’s telling Danny about… He can see his dad looking at him in fury and disappointment. He didn’t mean to… He was just so angry. And he kissed Danny! He kissed Danny and he had his hand down his… Oh no. Nonononono…

“Spike? What is it? What did you promise?”

Danny’s voice sounds far away and Spike turns to look at him, eyes wide with fear. “You can’t tell anyone. Danny? Please, don’t tell anyone.”

“Tell them what? Spike, I don’t understand. Please. Talk to me.”

”No. No, I can’t. I promised. I promised.” He sinks down in the corner, hiding his face in his hands. “He’ll be so angry. I let him down. I… I’m sorry, daddy. I’m so sorry.” Desperate for punishment he starts banging his head against the wall. The pain is soothing.

“Spike, please stop. Spike! Don’t… don’t do that.” Danny is pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to stand up but it’s no use. “I’m gonna go fetch the school nurse, ok? You’re not well. You…”

“No!” Spike grabs his hand, clutching it like a drowning man. “You can’t tell anyone! Promise. Promise you won’t tell anyone. He’ll be so angry. So hurt.” He lets go of Danny’s hand and wraps his arms around his knees. What is he gonna do? What is he gonna do? Oh god. Oh godohgodohgod…

“About what? Why would your dad…?” Danny stops, blinks, and then his eyes widen.

The room goes quiet except for the creak in Spike’s leather coat as he rocks back and forth and his mumbled words of ‘Sorry’ and ‘I didn’t mean to, daddy’. He hardly even notices when Danny sinks down beside him and pulls him close, stroking his hair and kissing him softly on the brow.

“Spike, is your dad…? Does he… does he touch you?”

Spike shakes his head. Shaking, shaking until he feels like it will fall off. He can’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say to make it go away. To make everything right again.

“Is he… does he hurt you?”

What? “No! He loves me. He loves me more than anything. He would never hurt me. Never ever.” Except he did but that was all Spike’s fault and he’d asked him too, hadn’t he? So many times. “He loves me. He loves me.”

“Ok. All right.” Danny is silent for a moment. “How does he love you?”

“So much. He cries because he loves me so much. I’m his… I’m his boy.”

Danny’s arms tighten around him. “I’m sure you are. And you? Do you love him the same way?”

Spike finally looks up, eyeliner running down his cheeks, eyes red and wet but his smile shows no doubt at all. “Yes. I love him so much, Danny. I love him so much it hurts in my heart because…” His smile falters and his face crumbles again. “He won’t let me love him like I want to.”

Danny seems to breathe out. “He won’t?”

“He says I’m too young, too… But I don’t care. I’m going to get him back.”

Silence.

“Back? So you two did… before…?”

Spike looks up at him in panic. “You can’t tell anyone! Promise me! Promise me you won’t tell anyone!”

Danny is pale, the confirmation of his suspicion still shaking him. “Spike… It’s wrong.”

“No!” He shakes his head in blind denial. “He loves me. And I love him. How can you say that’s wrong?”  
  
“Spike… He shouldn’t be doing this to you.”

“He’s not! He’s not doing anything!” Spike scrambles to his feet, looking down at him in anger. “That’s the fucking problem, innit? And if you’re a real friend you’ll keep my secret.”

“Spike…” He averts his eyes.

“Promise! Promise you’ll keep my secret or you’re not my friend.”

Danny looks up at him, still sitting on the floor, looking smaller than ever before. “I am your friend, Spike. And as your friend I should tell, because he’s your dad and he shouldn’t be doing this to you.” He looks down again, plucking at a hole in the knee of his pants. “But I won’t. I promise.” He waits until Spike’s hand is at the door before adding, “But if he ever hurts you I’m calling the police.”

Spike’s laugh is close to hysterical. “He **is** the police, Danny. And if you tell on him, he’ll tell on your mum.”

Danny’s shocked expression turns into anger and he jumps up, fists raised. “If you hurt my mom I’ll…I’ll…”

They stand, glaring at each other, but then Spike’s face crumbles again and he reaches out, hand shaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I would never hurt your mum, Danny. Never. Please don’t hate me.”

Danny sighs and the tension drains out of him. He pulls Spike into his arms, hugging him tight. “I don’t hate you. I’m just very worried about you. You’re not ok. And he’s not ok. It will never work out.”

“It will. It has to,” Spike whispers and buries his face in Danny’s hair. “I can’t live without him.”

Danny hugs him tighter. “Did you… I mean, when we…” His breath is tickling Spike’s neck. “That didn’t mean anything?”

“Yes! It did, it did.” Spike pulls back. “You make me feel safe. He makes me feel…” He closes his eyes and shivers. “Like I’m on fire and he’s the rain. When I’m with you I feel happy. But… but when I’m with him…I feel like I would die without him.”

Danny smiles, despite everything. “Is that really better?”

“I don’t know. I just know I can’t lose him.” He opens his eyes again, desperate. “But I don’t want to lose you either. Danny…”

“It’s ok. I’d rather be your friend than nothing.” He smiles and brushes away the tears from Spike’s cheeks. “Now let’s fix you up a bit. Can’t have you looking like a racoon, can we?”

\----------------------------

The rest of the day goes by too fast for his liking. Not that he notices much of what’s going on around him, he’s too filled with dread and worry. What if his dad finds out he told? What if he just looks at him and knows? What if he gets so angry he’ll turn him away? What if he won’t love him anymore?

The terror builds up in him as each hour passes. His only comfort is not being alone with his secret anymore. Danny doesn’t say much, just stays by his side, reaching over to grab his hand when his breath starts quickening or his eyes begin darting around like those of a trapped animal. The possibility that Danny could have walked away, could have stared at him in anger or even reported his dad…

And there it is once again, a small hand slipping into his own, calloused fingertips stroking his palm. He closes his eyes briefly and manages to calm down before looking over at Danny and giving him a thankful nod. Now that he knows what can happen if he gives in to the fear he can fight it but it’s hard. So hard that if they weren’t here, surrounded by faces and voices and eyes looking at him he would give in and curl up and wait for the relief of the blackness to swallow him.

As the last bell rings they walk out slowly, letting the others rush pass them. Spike’s stomach is one tiny knot tightening harder and harder and his heart is beating faster than he thought possible. When they reach the steps Danny moves to sits down like they always do, waiting for Spike’s dad to pick him up but Spike grabs his arm and pulls him up again.

“Can we… would your mum mind if I came home with you? Just… just for an hour or…”

Danny looks at him and gives him a sad smile. “Come on.”

As soon as they’re alone, he grabs Danny’s hand and holds on for dear life. His breath is getting shallower and he knows it won’t be long until black dots start dancing in front of his eyes. Danny keeps glancing at him with obvious worry, squeezing his hand, and when they reach the small wooden area that separates the neighbourhoods he stops and pulls him close. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”

“I’m… I’m fine. I just… I just…” He buries his face in Danny’s hair, trying to fight back the panic.

“Ok. We’ll be home soon. Hang in there.”

When they reach the house sweat is running down his back and the pain in his chest is so scary. Danny pushes the door open and then helps him up the stairs, his legs wobbly and he stumbles. Everything is going dark. He can hear Danny’s mum in the kitchen, shouting cheerfully “Danny? I have pancakes.” And then they’re at the door to Danny’s room, stumbling inside and he falls on the bed.

He can hear his own voice whispering ‘please don’t tell her’ and...

\----------------

When he wakes up it’s dark except for the Christmas lights hanging above the bed and a small lamp on the other side of the room. Slowly he sits up, blinking in confusion. “Danny?”

“Hey.” Danny puts away the book he is reading and stands up, walking over with a sad look on his face. “You feel better?”

“Yeah. Just a bit… Sorry.”

“It’s ok. Listen…” He sits down on the bed, gripping Spike’s hand in his own. “I can’t lie to my mom. It’s all right, I haven’t told her about your dad but… I had to tell her you were sick again.”

“But…”

“I told her you both knew this could happen, that you just needed to rest. She called your dad and if you want you can sleep over. He said it was ok.”

“He said that?” That didn’t sound like him. _I don’t like being alone. Alone._ Maybe… maybe he was angry and didn’t want Spike to come back at all? He shouldn’t have gone home to Danny. Now dad would think Danny was his boyfriend again and…

“Spike?”

“I’m ok, I just… he didn’t miss me?”

Danny sighs and rubs his hand. “I’m sure he did. Spike… This isn’t…” He shakes his head and starts again. “I hate to see you so hurt. Are you really sure he’s what you want?”

Spike looks up at him in distress. “I don’t just want him, I need him. When he loves me I feel like the whole world is wonderful.”

“And when he’s angry with you?”

Spike bows his head and whispers, “I feel like I want to die.”

Danny holds him as he cries, comforting him with his calm and silent acceptance. He’s curled around Spike’s shaking form, stroking his hair, whispering soft words of comfort into his ear. Spike’s breath finally calms down, sobs turning into muffled hiccups and then he lies still, defeated. Slowly he turns around and faces Danny. His face is wet, his eyes red and puffy, his lips swollen. Danny stares at him, then closes his eyes but it’s too late, his body has already betrayed him and Spike stiffens as he feels something twitch against his thigh.

He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Danny opens his eyes again, big and green and almost pulsating. “Just ignore it and it’ll go away.” He smiles although doesn’t feel like smiling at all and Spike knows it.

He bites his lip. “What if I like it? You touching me.”

“Spike…”

“He doesn’t like me now, you know. He keeps pushing me away.” The old hurt swells up inside him. “Do you know how hard it is having him so close and not being allowed to touch him?”

“I can imagine.” Danny looks away, his Adam’s apple bopping as he swallows.

“Because every time he touches me it’s like my skin is burning. And when we kiss, I can hardly breathe, Danny. The first time… it was just… and he loves touching me. Everywhere. He even, he licked me _there_. Inside! I didn’t even know you were supposed to do that.”

Danny blinks. “Me neither.”

“But god, it was so good! Strange but so good. Even better than when he was doing my… my cock.” He blushes, just by saying the word. “Really! Just… amazing. And then one night he put a finger inside me while he was down there and it was just… I actually passed out. Not kidding. Just pow! Scared the hell out of him.”

He giggles. Finally being able to talk about everything that’s been happening is so freeing that he feels like he’s flying. High on hash brownies again. He smiles, remembering that night. Danny is watching him, wide-eyed and flushed, and that’s when he realises the effect his words are having. He can feel Danny’s cock twitching against his thigh, and suddenly the air is heavy and his skin breaks out in sweat. Slowly he reaches down with his hand. Danny gasps as he strokes his cock through the thin material of his pants. Light dancing fingers, teasing him. His voice turns lower. Almost whispering.

“And he’s taught me all kinds of things. How to lick and suck him. How to roll his balls in my hand, then sucking them into my mouth. Not too hard or I’ll hurt him. His cock is so big and thick and even if I’ve tried I can’t take him all into my mouth.”

His hand has slipped inside Danny’s pants. Squeezing, then stroking him. Danny’s eyes are closed; his lips slightly parted and Spike leans forward, giving them a quick lick before continuing.

“One night… one night he pushed two fingers inside me. Two! His fingers are really, really thick and it hurt a bit but then he touched _that_ spot inside me again. The one that made me pass out, remember? It’s so… There are stars all around me and it’s like I have to get more but it’s still too much, you know?”

Danny nods, his hand has finally decided to take the chance and he reaches out and starts stroking Spike’s erection, first through the denim, then popping open his buttons and slipping inside. They’re both panting, Spike’s voice is low and husky, hitching at times when it just becomes too much.

“And I’m whimpering and pushing back and they go deeper and deeper and harder and it’s like I’m making him fuck me with his fingers. And it is so good and so much and then I’m screaming for him, ‘Daddy, daddy, daddy!!’ and…”

Danny’s lips crush against his, forcing his tongue inside his mouth and the unusual passion pushes Spike over the edge. They’re bucking and groaning, pumping each other’s cocks furiously, until their hands get wet and sticky.

They lie panting, and then Danny starts kissing him again, this time slowly but still passionate. His tongue is so soft as it licks the inside of his teeth, the roof of his mouth. Dances around his own tongue like a gypsy. They kiss and kiss, sticky fingers stroking bare arms and shoulders, winding into damp hair. Spike feels like he could stay here forever. He knows he is doing something so wrong but for once he doesn’t care. This is too good, too perfect and daddy doesn’t want him anyway.

Finally Danny pulls back, cheeks flushed, eyes dancing. He gazes into Spike’s eyes, like he’s looking for something and Spike gazes back, overwhelmed with feelings for this boy. His only friend in the whole world.

“I still want you. Well, obviously. But… I’m not sure I can do this, Spike. I don’t know what I am to you.”

Spike looks down, feeling like the worst friend ever. He knows he’s hurting Danny, he’s doing the same to his best friend as his daddy is doing to him and still the thought of never kissing Danny again, of never doing this or anything like this again is terrifying.

“I’m sorry. I do like you, you know. And I do want you. So much.” He looks up again, begging him to understand. “I just… I can’t leave him. I can’t stop wanting to be with him. He’s like a drug or something. But… I still want you.” He bites his lip, feeling suddenly very small and worthless. “I’m sorry.”

Danny is fiddling with his hair, looking startlingly nervous. Spike can’t remember ever seeing him look nervous about anything. “Can we still… I mean, I don’t want to lose you. Even if I have to share you with… him. So… is that ok?”

Spike swallows. “You wouldn’t mind?”

Danny looks so sad Spike feels like crying. “I would but that’s ok. I can live with it.”

“I’m so sorry, Danny. If I wasn’t…”

The kiss is light but soothing. “I know. Maybe one day it will be different. I can wait.”

“But if you find someone else…” He stops, the thought too dreadful to be finished and he hates himself for the hypocrisy.

“Then I’ll be able to show him all the stuff you’re going to teach me.” He smiles, the tension broken. “After all, I never had such an experienced teacher. Such an _old_ teacher.”

“Hey! He’s not old. He’s just…”

“Old enough to be your father?” Danny pokes him and he giggles.

“Well, yes. How did you guess?” He pokes him back and they start tickling each other, rolling around on the bed, laughing and squeaking until Danny’s mother calls them down for dinner. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all this up and down in their relationship isn't too confusing or inconsistent. They're both pretty unstable, me thinks, so their emotions are all over the place. I hope it's working the way it's supposed to. If it all just seems a mess it probably isn't.

When he reaches the school the fear that once again Spike will not be there is making him break out in cold sweat. Yesterday when he realised that he wasn’t waiting for him at his usual spot, sitting too close to Danny, smiling at something they’d just shared and he wasn’t a part of, he had panicked. His head filled up with a million possibilities, each one worse than the other. Spike had told someone in his anger and he had been taken away by child services. The bullies had dragged him off somewhere and were beating him to a bloody pulp. He was having sex with Danny.

He’d gotten out of the car and crossed the playground, looking around for any hint of his boy. He went inside, even if he was terrified that they were waiting for him, handcuffs and guns ready, but he wasn’t there either. He was half running out of there, his heart in his throat, when a voice called out his name and he stopped short, thinking this was it. But for once luck was with him. The woman recognised him as Spike’s father and asked him if he was looking for his son. When he nodded she told him she’d seen him and Danny leave together, assumingly on their way to Danny’s house since she knew it was in that direction. “So nice he’s finally found a friend,” she smiled and he wanted to punch her. Instead he thanked her and drove home, not quite sure what to do.

He’d only just entered the door when the phone rang. He sank down on the floor, cradling the phone to his ear as he listened to Danny’s mother explain that Spike was once again sick, that he was asleep upstairs and had told Danny that if it happened his dad had wanted him to ask if he could stay there. Was that correct? It took him a moment to realise there was a question he was supposed to answer. He could feel grief gripping his chest at the image of Spike in Danny’s bed. He was losing him to a small boy with wild hair and kind eyes. It was all over.

Defeated he told her it was all right and if she didn’t mind Spike could stay the night. He had to work overtime anyway. That was a lie but he wanted her to believe he was grateful, that he appreciated her, appreciated both of them. That he didn’t want to torch their house and watch the flames swallow their happy home just like her family was swallowing his.

It was probably for the best anyway.

That night he had stayed up, staring into the dark, playing movies of Spike in his head. William as a toddler, like he’d seen him on his mother’s old videos. Will at ten, running in the wind and laughing. Spike crying at his mother’s funeral, looking so small in his new dark coat that he’d never worn again, trembling hand in his father’s tight grip. Spike sleeping on the grass out in the yard, sun playing upon his face. Spike looking up at him with hooded eyes, Angel’s cock sliding into his mouth. Spike splayed upon the bed. Spike bent over the couch. Spike staring at him in terror as he broke his heart all over again.

By morning he felt more lost than ever.

The day went by in a blur. Martha was home with a sick kid and he couldn’t help being grateful that she wasn’t there, seeing right through him. How much longer could he fool her? How much longer could he fool himself?

And now, seeing Spike sitting on the steps as usual, he feels such a rush of relief that for a moment he contemplates getting out of the car and taking him in his arms and…

He blinks as the boy opens the door to the rear seat and gets in, dragging Danny with him.

“Danny’s gonna come home with us to check out my new computer.”

Danny. Danny who is trying so hard not to look at him, cheeks blushing, jaw tense. He doesn’t understand it but then the small boy looks up and their eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. Anger, sadness, blame, fear. And it hits him.

He knows. Danny knows. Oh god, what has he done? What has Spike done? It is all over. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to explain, to avoid the disaster but then Danny glances at Spike who’s shrugging off his backpack and back at Angel and shakes his head.

What does it mean? That he doesn’t want Spike to know he knows that Danny knows? Or that he won’t tell anyone about their secret? Angel swallows and tries to read the boy’s face. Danny takes a deep breath and presses his lips together, forming a straight line. He looks over at Spike who’s fasting his seatbelt, oblivious to what’s going on, then back at Angel and mouths ‘Because **he** loves you.’

Spike is chatting away to a silent Danny, ignoring his dad, acting like yesterday’s fight never happened. Angel keeps an eye on them in the rear-view mirror, noticing the way Spike unconsciously touches Danny every now and then, like he’s not even aware how inappropriate it is with his father right there. The way Danny smiles and looks at Spike like he’s the most wonderful thing in the world. The boy’s love is quiet but obvious and Angel violently pushes back the thought that this is what Spike should have. This normal relationship with a normal boy his own age.

He thinks he might have to stop the car to throw up.

Finally they’re home and the boys go ahead, disappearing into Spike’s room before he even closes the front door. He can hear their muffled voices behind the closed door and then a happy laughter and it takes him a minute to realise it’s Spike’s. It feels like a punch to his stomach. Spike sounds so young, so childish in his happiness and he wants to cry because he can’t remember when he last heard him laugh like that.

He stays outside the door, listening, until the sound of computerised gunshots takes over all talk. Then he walks slowly into the kitchen and leans onto the counter, the pain in his heart making him gasp for breath. He should let the boy go. He should allow him to be with this kid who obviously makes him so happy, much happier than he would ever be with his father. It’s the right thing to do. He loves the boy so much, his happiness is all that matters.

And still the thought of losing him makes him feel like he’s going to die.

Defeated he walks into the bedroom and lies shakily down on the bed, closing his eyes against the inevitable future. His chest hurts from unreleased sobs and he feels week and cold. A tear tickles his skin as it runs down from the corner of his eye and into his ear.

He doesn’t know how long he’s lain there when he feels someone stroking his cheek and he jerks awake. His throat hurts as if he’s been screaming but he doesn’t remember any sound at all.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, daddy. Please don’t cry.”

“Spike…”

“I love you, daddy. Please. I didn’t mean to do it.”

He blinks through the tears. Spike is staring at him, fear in his eyes. “Do what? Danny?” So he _had_ told him, the boy didn’t just figure it out.

Kisses are raining over his face, drying the tears on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Please, daddy. Do you still love me?”

He shakes the sleep out of his head and pulls the boy close, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Spike… baby. Daddy only wants you to be happy. And if you want to be with Danny…”

“No! I want _you_. I love _you_. I need you so much it hurts.” Spike squeezes his eyes shut as in pain then flings them wide open, glistening with desperation. “Please, daddy. He’s my friend but you’re my world.”

He stares into the boy’s eyes, looking for lies, but all he sees is love and fear of rejection. “Even if we have to wait?”

The boy’s lip wobbles and his eyes fill with tears but he doesn’t waver. “Yes. Even if I have to wait.”

The kiss tastes of salt and he’s squeezing the boy tight to his chest, feeling like if he lets him go he will disappear. Spike is trembling in his arms, whispering ‘sorry’ and ‘I didn’t meant to’ over and over again and he knows there is something more behind those words but he can’t concentrate. His hands travel down Spike’s back, sliding under the waistband of his pants. The smooth skin feels hot under his palms. His head is spinning, and he closes his eyes, breathing in the smell of his boy. _Want you. Want you so much._ Trembling with need he looks up and straight into green eyes, staring at him from the doorway.

Time stands still.

Spike is sobbing into Angel’s ear, arms wrapped around his neck. Danny lets his gaze slide over them, pausing at Angel’s hands cupping Spike’s cheeks and then he looks up again, fire burning in his eyes. Angel stares back, his heart beating fast in his chest. A blue vein is pulsating down Danny’s neck, his hands curling into fists by his sides. Angel holds his gaze and then he grabs Spike by the neck, pulls his head back and crushes their lips together. His eyes never leave Danny’s, not even when Spike sucks his tongue into his feverish mouth, hiccoughing thankful sobs.

_Mine. He’s mine. You will never take him away from me._

Danny’s face grows dark. His eyes leave Angel’s to look at Spike and they fill with tears. Then he turns on his heel and is gone.

\--------------------------

Spike doesn’t even remember Danny until way later when he’s finally calmed down and enveloped in his daddy’s arms, tasting his own tears on his lips.

They’d been playing for an hour when Spike finally threw away the controls, laughing that he was getting cramps in his fingers.

Danny rolled his eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because you’re losing.”

Spike pushed him so he fell over and then they were rolling around, wrestling, giggling like maniacs. Suddenly Spike was lying on his back, Danny straddling his waist and their noses were only inches apart. A part of his brain tried telling him this was wrong, that his dad was in the next room. But instead of putting him off, the thought only made him hitch his breath and his cock twitched in his pants. He licked his lips and stared into Danny’s eyes.

Then Danny’s lips were on his and Danny’s tongue pushing into his mouth and Danny’s fingers stroking through his hair and it was so good he felt like he was flying. And that’s when he heard it.

A faint keening sound, like an animal in mortal pain.

He froze, then pushed Danny off him so he fell over on his butt, jumped to his feet, threw open the door and ran to the main bedroom. His dad was lying on the bed, face streaked with tears, a wailing sound emerging from his open mouth. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be trapped in a nightmare.

Spike tried to shake him gently awake but then a loud sob shook his dad’s body. “Please don’t leave me. Please. I love you so much.”

His lower lip quivered. “Daddy?”

“Should let you go. Should let him have you. God. But it hurts. It hurts so much.”

His stomach contracted in shock. He knew. His dad knew what they were doing. Maybe he even knew about what happened at school and at Danny’s place yesterday. And during the night. And right before his mum called them down for breakfast this morning. All those kisses. All those touches. All those clumsy but oh so good orgasms.

The guilt and shame was so overwhelming he thought he might throw up.

Desperate he’d tried to wipe the tears away from his daddy’s face, wipe away the effects of his betrayal. That had woken his daddy up and crying he clung to him, pleading for his forgiveness. And his daddy had known, known about Danny but he had forgiven him anyway, had said he loved him, had even kissed him to show him how much he wanted him in spite of everything. He’d been so grateful that he’d forgotten all about Danny in the other room, about Danny that he’d been kissing and then pushed away.

The thought makes his stomach twist into a tiny knot. Somehow he knows Danny’s gone. It’s been an hour at least, even more. What must he have thought when he treated him like that? Did he come after him? Did he see…?

In his mind he envisions Danny’s green eyes staring at them as they were kissing, as his dad held him tight.

But now Danny must understand how right this is. He must have seen it. Must have seen the love in his daddy’s eyes, seen how they fit each other like two pieces of a puzzle. Just like he knows everyone would be able to see it if his dad would only allow it. It’s love. How can there be anything wrong about love?

Still he can’t help feeling guilty about Danny. It isn’t fair to him. But what can he do? His daddy had again said that they had to wait but then there had been that kiss… That kiss had meant they weren’t going to wait after all, right? Right?

“Spike? You awake?”

He turns his head and his daddy kisses him softly on the lips. His tummy flutters. This isn’t like that previous kiss. This one is hesitant and light like it’s not sure it should even exist.

“Daddy?” He turns around so he can see his dad’s face. His eyes are vacant, his smile faint. He can feel his heart beat faster and the butterflies in his stomach turn into wasps.

“You hungry? Think there are some hot dogs in the freezer.”

He’s never felt less hungry in his life. “Sure.” He releases his hold on his daddy’s warm body as he gets out of bed. He feels suddenly eleven years old again, left alone in the big bed as Angel went to identify his mum's body at the morgue. So small and so alone. “Daddy?” It’s barely a whisper.

His dad hesitates slightly then hangs his head and leaves the room.

Spike pulls the cover over his head and screams his pain into the damp pillow.


	24. Chapter 24

“I can’t fucking believe this!”

Angel stares after the cars rushing to their destination. One to the hospital, the other to the morgue. He’s tired and angry and what the hell is he going to do about Spike? Spike who would hardly look at him this morning. Spike who ate his dinner last night without a word, who went to bed, his own bed, without even being asked to. Spike who cried in his sleep all night, whimpering questions of why, not even waking up when Angel sank down on the floor by his bed, sobbing his own frustration. Spike who turned to him with a sad smile as he was about to leave the car this morning then looked quickly away and hurried out, his smile crumbling, his eyes filling with tears.

He doesn’t know what to do anymore. He thought he was doing the right thing, making them wait but now he can see the boy is about to break down with the emotional strain. What the hell is right about that?

“I know.” Martha sighs and gets into the car, waiting patiently for him to get in on the driver’s side. He shakes his head and throws his half burnt cigarette to the ground, grinding it into the wet asphalt before getting into the car, slamming the door extra hard.

“Didn’t we arrest this guy like, two weeks ago? They let him go? They fucking let him go?”

“Yep. Free on bail it seems.” She takes one final look at the crime scene, taped off and crawling with forensics. Like it wasn’t obvious what the hell had been going on. “Can’t have been much because if this one had millions stashed away I’m fucking Mother Theresa.”

“Probably bribed his way out.” Angel hits the wheel with the palm of his hand. “Who lets a fucking kiddie rapist out on bail?” Animals, monsters… Not like him. Not like him at all.

“Our justice system? Unless he’s caught with his dick up a baby’s ass he’s innocent until proven guilty.”

He swallows and looks away. “Don’t say things like that.” _Terrified, shocked blue eyes. “It hurts! It hurts!”_

She looks over at him and frowns. “Sorry. Defence mechanism, you know.” They all do it. Cope with humour, cope with sarcasm, cope by acting like they don’t care for shit.

“I know, just… don’t.” _“I couldn’t breathe, daddy!”_

“Angel, are you sure you’re all right? You seem…”

“It’s nothing, ok?” Oh hell. He looks over at her, the need to talk to someone overwhelming. “I… I’m just worried, ok?”

She nods like she’s known all along what this is about. Probably did. “About Spike?”

“Yeah.” He drums his fingers on the wheel, contemplating how to do this. “He’s just so young, you know. But of course he thinks he’s old enough for… for stuff.”

Her smile is both reassuring and annoying. That ‘I’m a mother, I know’ grin which makes him feel so fucking inadequate because he isn’t and he doesn’t. “Let me guess. Danny. The sixteen year old with the matching libido.”

“Martha, please.” The image of Danny kissing his boy makes him want to scream. The thought of him doing anything more is too infuriating to dwell on. But this is good, a perfect line to take. “Ok, yeah. He wants to be allowed to... date. You know.”

She nods again. “Meaning kissing and groping and losing his virginity in the back of Danny’s mom’s car.”

“Jesus! God, you just… Ok, yes! That’s what will happen, right? And I can talk all I want and tell him no and… he’ll still do it, right? Not like I can actually stop the boy from doing something he’s determined to do, can I?”

“Angel, I don’t know what to tell you. If he’s really determined, then no, you can’t stop him. Except lock him in his room until he turns sixteen or fifty or whenever you’re ready to let him lose.”

He tries to smile but he’s too much on edge to manage more than a snarl. “So what? I give him a pack of condoms and tell him to stay safe and use lots of lube? That’s what you’re saying?”

“Not such bad advice. But no. You can do more. You can sit down with him and explain why he’s too young to do anything more than your basic kissing and groping, because let’s face it, he will do that.”

Oh yes, he will. “Ok. Explain. Yes, I can do that.” He purses his lips in thought. “How?”

“Angel.” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

“What? Martha, I know what it’s like being a teenage boy with sex on the brain. I wouldn’t have listened to me whatever I said.”

“Ok, ok. Jeez, boys and their penises.” She sighs. “Damn, I don’t know. Not like you can frighten him with the possibility of getting knocked up. Diseases… but he’ll promise to use condoms and… No use talking about emotional maturity because he’s too immature to realise he doesn’t have it.”

“See? I have no leg to stand on.” No argument, whatsoever.

“It’s illegal? Irresponsible? Hurts like a motherfucker? Hey!”

“Yes, Martha. That’s great advice. Make the kid scared of sex for the rest of his life.” He rolls his eyes but although he’s smiling he feels sick inside. Too late to tell the boy that. He knows it too well.

“So what do you want to do?”

“What can I do? Like you say, I can’t keep him locked up in his room. I can’t follow him wherever he goes. I can’t forbid him to see his friend, his only friend. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Pray?” She smiles again but this time it only shows sympathy. “I’m sorry, Angel, I just don’t know. And here I thought having a teenage girl was hard.”

“Yeah, right.” He isn’t really listening, still trying to make her confirm his reasoning. “So if he starts having sex tomorrow instead of a year from now or two… What difference will it make? Do you think… do you think it will hurt him? Emotionally, I mean. Psychologically?”

She looks over at him, then puts a hand on his arm and squeezes it lightly. “I couldn’t say for sure but I don’t think so, Angel. I’m sure he’ll be all right.” She must see the relief in his eyes because she smiles and pats his arm before letting go. “After all, he has you to guide him through it.”

He laughs, suddenly feeling a lot better. “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?” That’s what parents do, right? Teach their kids about stuff, about growing up. “It will be all right. Thank you, Martha.”

“You’re welcome. Phew, therapy makes me thirsty. Coffee?”

“Let’s make it a fancy one. I’m buying.”

He smiles as she gives him a fake shocked look. “I’ll even throw in a couple of brownies if you stop gaping like that.” She clamps a hand over her mouth, big innocent eyes, and he shakes his head in amusement as he pulls over and double-parks in front of the nearest Starbucks.

\--------------------

They sit side by side on the school steps, waiting for Spike’s dad to pick him up. Close enough to feel each other’s heat. Far enough apart that when his dad arrives he can only speculate, not confirm. Their fingers are touching, but just barely.

He’d been terrified that morning. Terrified that Danny would be so mad at him, wouldn’t even want to talk to him. But he’d greeted him like everything was fine and when he’d apologised for what happened Danny had only shrugged and said he’d had to go home anyway.

“Did you see…?” They were sitting with their backs up against the wall behind the school at recess.

Danny’s smile had faltered slightly. “Yeah.”

Spike grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Then you know, how it is, I mean. He loves me. He really does love me.”

Danny had been quiet for a moment then squeezed back. “Yeah, Spike. He really does.”

Laughing desperately with relief Spike had lifted up their joint hands and kissed Danny’s fingers. Then he grew solemn, rubbing the smooth knuckles against his cheek. “Yeah, he does. I just wish he’d stop being so bloody stubborn.” The hurt in his chest made him hitch his breath.

Danny hadn’t answered, just run his fingers up and through Spike’s hair. He thought he felt him shivering but when he looked over Danny had on his usual calm smile and he knew everything was ok.

When Spike sees his dad’s car coming around the corner he gives Danny’s hand a quick, tight squeeze and stands up. “Remember, you don’t know anything. He’s my dad. He’s just my dad.”

He waves to the shadowed person in the car, smiling. Nothing is wrong. Just two friends chatting. He starts walking down the steps, then stops and turns to look at Danny who is watching him with a strangely dark expression. “Thank you. You’re the best friend ever.” Then he runs down the steps and to the car and slips inside.

He wants to hug his dad but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. Danny’s calming effect is wearing off and he feels the old desperation clawing at him. Except his daddy’s smiling so happily. He smiles back, uncertain. “Hi dad. Everything ok?”

“Fine. Good. Absolutely wonderful.”

His enthusiasm is infectious and Spike can’t help giggling. His dad laughs along, pulling him in for a hug, letting the kiss on his temple linger just a little bit longer than is appropriate, his fingers stroking Spike’s neck, making him shiver. He looks up, confused. “Dad?”

“How about we have a movie night, with snacks and soda and all the candy you can eat?” Angel smiles and puts the car in gear before letting his hand return, stroking little circles on Spike’s neck.

“Ooookaaay.” Spike blinks. “Are you all right?”

His dad looks over at him, laughing at the look on his face. “I’m fine. What? Can’t an old man have a quiet night with his son? Just you and me. Together.” His twirling fingers entangle in the small curls and Spike can’t stop the tremble running through him. “Snuggling on the couch.” He smiles. “Like we used to do. I miss that.”

His heart rate speeds up and he can feel tension building in his belly. There’s a bulge in his father’s lap that he has to fight not to stare at. “Yeah. Me too.”

“So…” Angel keeps his eyes on the road, the smile never leaving his lips. “What do you want to see?”

“I don’t know.” He closes his eyes, his father’s fingers on his neck soothing and exciting him at the same time. Warm, strong fingers.

“Because I was thinking something with lots of nudity.”

He gasps as Angel grabs his hand and places it on his straining lap.

\------------

Angel smiles as he watches Spike wander between the shelves, trying desperately to hide the painful erection in his pants. He’s feeling happier than he has in a long time. He was stupid trying to fight this. How could he think the boy wasn’t ready? He’s so eager to please he’d drop down on his knees right here if he asked him. Angel turns his gaze upwards, eyeing the security camera and sighs. Well, they’ll be home soon enough.

They have a system so they won’t awake suspicion. Spike pulls the ones he likes out a little bit and then Angel casually walks by, picking them up if they look promising to him as well. Oh, look at that. The boy is obviously getting bolder. He puts _Queer as Folk S1_ on top of _Velvet Goldmine_ and finishes off with a copy of _Die Hard 2_ just for show. Spike goes and flicks some movie magazines while he pays up, staying there for a few extra minutes before joining Angel in the car. He’s blushing and panting slightly, his eyes on fire.

“You all right there, son?”

“Fine. Can we go home now?”

Angel smiles and reaches over to stroke a finger lightly over the boy’s erection. “Soon. Got to do some shopping first.” The groan makes him chuckle.

An hour later Spike is looking almost sick with need. So bad actually that the woman at the counter had asked him if he was all right. He glanced panicky at his dad who smiled and said he was sure it was just a cold. Then he picked up the cucumber from the counter, bouncing it in his hand before letting it slide into the grocery bag. Spike bit his lips and groaned, making the woman look at him with even deeper concern.

But now they’re finally home. Angel carries the bags into the kitchen and puts things away, slowly and carefully, ignoring the boy who is fidgeting and staring at him like a lovesick puppy.

“Why don’t you go have a shower?” He keeps his tone casual, like he doesn’t care, like the image of his boy naked and covered in soap isn’t making him so hard he has to breathe slowly in order not to groan. “I’ll make us some pasta.” Not even he can mess that up.

Spike stands still for a moment before turning around. As he is opening the bathroom door Angel says casually, “If you touch yourself, I won’t.” The gasp is barely audible but it’s enough to assure him he will be obeyed and he grins as he turns on the heat under the pot of water. When the boy emerges twenty minutes later he is wearing the tight jeans and one of the new t-shirts. It’s light blue and soft and the chest beneath it is rising and falling with an urgency that says even more than his dark eyes. His hair is tussled, the eyeliner is back on and he looks absolutely fuckable.

Angel eats his dinner slowly, still keeping their talk casual as his toes rub Spike’s lightly under the table. The boy barely eats at all, answering only in whispered ‘yes’ and ‘no’. His face is flushed, his eyes wide and almost glazed over. When they finally finish Angel makes the boy put their dishes away in the dishwasher while he takes a shower himself, finally giving in to his own lust and shivering as he soaps his erection. A fresh start. A clean start. A night they will both remember, he’ll make sure of that.

He walks naked into their bedroom – _their_ bedroom – and pulls on an old pair of jeans. Soft and worn with wear, top button missing. No underwear, no t-shirt. Barefoot. He looks at himself in the mirror and smiles. He’s young, handsome. Not old enough to be anyone’s father anyway.

Spike is standing by the window in the living room, hands thrust into his pockets. He’s deep in thought, so deep in fact that he doesn’t even notice Angel entering the room. He looks for some reason very young and lonely and Angel imagines taking him right there against the glass, ripping off his clothes, his skin white and cold as it’s pressed into the see-through surface.

Instead he walks up to him and lets his hand rest on his neck, making him jump slightly, then reaches for the curtain. The room goes dark as it covers the window and Spike turns around, looking up at him with a mix of hope and confusion in his eyes. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby.”

They kiss. Angel slowly and deeply, Spike desperately, almost sobbing with happiness. His arms are wrapped around Angel’s waist, holding him so tight he can hardly breathe. As Angel tastes salt on his tongue his smug attitude falters somewhat, suddenly realising how much the boy has needed this, needed him. “Sshh, it’s all right. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”

“I love you, da-daddy. I lo-love you so much.” Spike starts trembling. “Thank you. Thank you for coming back to me.”

He pulls the boy closer, crushing him in his arms. “I never went away, son. I just… lost my way for a while.” He tips the boys head up, looking deep into his big, blue, wet eyes. “I never stopped loving you. Never.”

They kiss again. Spike’s tongue is almost feverish. His hands roam over his father’s bare chest, trying to touch as much as possible as if this is a dream that might end at any moment. Slowly they make their way into the bedroom, forgetting all about the movies lying discarded on the living room table. Not like they need more stimulation anyway.

Angel’s heart is beating so fast in his chest he thinks it might break. The decision has been made and he knows it is the right one but now they’re about to take that final step his mind keeps flashing back to when he ra… tried this the last time. It will be different this time, he will never hurt the boy like that again, but still it frightens him. It’s like a sweet burden, a responsibility that he craves but fears at the same time. What happens tonight will determine the future. If he screws this up again, if he hurts him, scares him like that night so long ago, it will never work. They will never work. Somehow he just knows that.

Still kissing him passionately he lowers Spike down on the bed. He clings to him like a child, thin arms wrapped around his neck, legs twisted around his own. Slowly he moves away from Spike’s mouth, kissing down his chin and his neck, feeling the blood pulsing under the warm skin. Spike is hitching his breath, fingers braided into his daddy’s hair, his whole body shivering in anticipation.

“Daddy! Daddydaddydaddy…”

“I know. It’s ok.”

He pulls up the soft t-shirt, kissing his chest. The skin is so smooth and soft. A few hairs around his nipples but that’s all. He kisses the puckered skin and it contracts even further, making the small nubs stand up like hard raisins. He licks the right one, then sucks it into his mouth. The loud gasp makes him shiver. He moves over to the other one as he rubs the right one, twitching it between his fingers as the left one is twitched between his teeth.

“Daddy! God… oh please.” The boy is arching off the bed, his thighs trembling. The front of his jeans is damp and his cock is twitching under the tight restrain.

Angel reluctantly lets go off the blushing nipples and kisses his way down to his belly. It moves in waves under his lips, sharp inhales and exhales giving the impression of a bellow blowing up the fire in his own stomach. There are downy hairs showing the way from his bellybutton and to the treasure hidden below the waistband of his jeans.

He looks up but Spike is lost in pleasure and as he reaches for the buttons the only reaction is a slight jerk of his hips and a low whimper.

One by one they pop open, revealing more hair, more skin, the sweet smell of youth and corrupted innocence. Spike’s cock strains to get out as it’s trapped under the fabric, pressed into the smooth balls. One last button and it springs free, almost hitting Angel on the chin.

“So beautiful. You’re so beautiful, my boy. Just look at you.”

His tongue reaches out and he starts licking his way up to the tip. Spike’s fingers curl in his hair and he starts crying softly and subdued like he’s afraid Angel might stop if he hears him. But Angel wouldn’t be able to stop, not now, not even if the cops burst in on them. Instead he comforts him with his lips and his tongue. Making love to his cock with soft licks and softer kisses, worshiping his body in every way he can.

When Spike starts to gasp, his balls pulling up in preparation, he finally lets go, pulling the boy’s jeans all the way down and throwing them aside. Spike is watching him with hooded eyes, his lower lip bruised where he’s bitten it. Slowly he sits up and pulls the t-shirt over his head, then lies down again, waiting. His cheeks and patches on his chest are flushed red.

Angel stands up, eyes never leaving the beauty in front of him. Slowly he unbuttons his own jeans. He can see the pulse jumping in the vein on Spike’s neck as he holds his breath. The boy is as ready as he’ll ever be. Still he wants to make sure, wants the boy to know they can stop if he wants to.

“I love you so much, Will. Going to make it so good for you, I promise.”

“Love you too, daddy. I’m not scared.”

But he is and it shows in the breaking of his voice, the blinking of his eyes, the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Angel slips off his jeans and stands naked before him. The boy’s eyes travel down until they rest on the cock, swaying in anticipation. His breath hitches. Maybe he’s remembering how it felt as it forced its way into him.

Angel lies down beside him and pulls him into his arms. “It’s ok, Will. We can stop anytime you want. We can just kiss and cuddle and… we can do so many things other than this.” Suddenly he’s not even sure he does want this himself. Is _he_ ready?

Spike’s lips upon his sooth his fears and they kiss for the longest time, hands moving over hot skin, hips slowly moving closer until their cocks touch and they both gasp.

“No. This. I want to do this. I know it’s gonna hurt but I want it. I don’t mind the pain because I know it’ll be good once I get used to having you inside me. Please, daddy.”

Angel buries his face in his neck, the guilt eating at him. “I’ll be so careful, I promise. And… and it won’t hurt as much this time. The first time is always worst.” Especially if your first time you’re raped by a drunken brute. I’m so sorry, son. I’m so, so sorry.

They kiss some more, rubbing their erections together. Spike slides his leg over his dad’s thigh and pulls him even closer. Slowly Angel lets his hands wander until they’re cupping Spike’s bottom and he pulls him on top of him. Spike rocks against him, his cock leaving a trail of precum in his dad’s curls.

“Love you, daddy. Love you so much.” Kiss, kiss, kiss.

He rolls them over again so Spike’s lying on his back. Then he kisses his way down again, nipples, belly, cock. Sucks his balls into his mouth and rolls them around. Then he slowly pushes up his knees, leaving his entrance exposed and inviting. He licks his lips before bending down.

Spike loves when he tongues him. His moans and whimpers are almost pitiful as he tries to push against the soft penetration, wanting it deeper. Angel pushes his tongue as far in as he can, fucking him until the muscle becomes soft, wet and open. He sits up, smiling down at the boy who is almost unconscious with pleasure and reaches for the bedside drawer.

He takes care to coat his fingers generously before he places his index finger against the opening and presses gently. The boy’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open in a silent gasp. The muscle only resists for a moment and then the finger slips easily inside. Maybe the boy has been practicing? Or maybe he and Danny…? Angel pushes away the thought before it manages to register fully. Not now. Not ever.

Slowly he slides the finger out then pushes it in again. Again and again until the boy opens up even further, gasping and moaning in symphony with the thrusts and withdrawals, his face flushed with excitement. When Angel pulls fully out he whimpers, pushing down his hips to try and follow his finger, to drag it back inside.

“Sshh, I’m going to add another one now. Are you all right?”

The boy nods and licks his lips. They’re dry and Angel leans over for a quick wet kiss to moisten them before he adds even more lubrication to his fingers. So careful. He’s going to be so careful.

Spike tenses slightly as the two fingers push against his entrance.

“Push back, then ease them in.”

He does as his dad says and as his body swallows the fingers he gasps loudly, eyes shining. “Daddy! Oh god! Daddy!”

“Is it good? Is it ok, baby?”

“Yes! Oh god! So good.” The boy’s eyes roll back in pleasure.

He moves his fingers slowly, opening him up with gentle motions. They have all the time in the world. When Spike starts pushing down to meet his thrusting he knows he’s ready. He leans over and kisses him, fucking his mouth with his tongue as he fucks his body with his fingers. The boy writhes and squirms, mewling like a kitten, begging for more with his moans and his hungry kisses.

Reluctantly Angel finally lets go of his mouth and sits up. He pulls his fingers out, smiling as the boy protests, and coats his cock generously. As he pushes Spike’s knees further up and positions the head of his cock against the entrance he locks eyes with the boy, holding him tight with his gaze, telling him everything he’s too overwhelmed to say with words.

Then he slowly pushes inside.

\---------

He wants to cry he’s so happy. It’s finally happening. It’s like he’s waking up from a nightmare of loneliness and rejection and now all he can feel is love. God, he loves him so much. And his daddy loves him back! He really, really does. Loves him so much. And wants him. His daddy wants him! He didn’t dare believing it until now. Not even when he let him touch him in the car or teased him with promises. He didn’t dare, too afraid to have his heart broken yet again. But then, then he kissed him. Really kissed him. And it was for real this time. A lovers’ kiss, sealing their eternal love. Now and forever and ever. They’re finally together again and his daddy will never leave him again. Never.

His body is burning up with emotions and need. The kisses still tickle his skin like tiny tattoos of affection. His head is spinning, his heart beating so hard in his chest he feels it might break out. Every single nerve in his body is on fire. It had been good before… before all the bad stuff happened but nothing like this.

His daddy had been right. He hadn’t been ready then but now… now he is. So ready he’s almost bursting. When his dad kissed him and he could taste himself on his tongue it was like he’d finally found home. He’d felt so lost for so long. Wanting and wishing and hoping for something he never thought he’d have. And then he’d got it only to have it taken away from him again. But not this time. This is it. This is where the rest of their happy life begins.

Holding his breath he stares into his daddy’s eyes. Love you. Love you so much, daddy. Love you…

Oh god! Ohgodohgodohgod!!

He opens his mouth in a silent cry. There’s no air in his lounges, no words in his mouth. His whole world exist in the depth of his daddy’s dark eyes as he’s slowly filled and filled and filled until he thinks he might explode. It’s true. It doesn’t hurt this time, except for a little sting but it’s gone and forgotten before it has time to fully register.

It feels… He doesn’t know how it feels. It’s beyond words. He only knows that from now on there will always be an empty place inside him if his daddy isn’t in it. In him. Deep inside, so deep he can almost feel him touching his heart.

His dad is saying something and he tries to concentrate, tries to silence the high pitched choir singing in his ears. He blinks and tears roll off his lashes and travel down his cheeks.

“Will? Am I hurting you? Will? Oh god, what have I…”

He crushes his lips against his, forcing those words of doubt and guilt back down his throat. _Never say those words again. Never say it’s wrong; that we’re wrong. That I am wrong. There is nothing in the world more right than this. Nothing!_

He pushes his tongue between his dad’s tense lips. Devours him with his mouth until he feels him giving in. They kiss. Kisskisskiss like they’ve never kissed before. His fingers curling in spiky hair as hands envelope his face. The palms get wet from his tears and he hitches his breath, his gasp echoing in his father’s mouth.

“Will…”

“Love you. Love you so much, daddy. It doesn’t hurt! It doesn’t hurt at all.” He sobs happily and rubs his wet nose into his dad’s cheek.

“You sure? We can stop. We can… I don’t want to hurt you ever again, baby.”

“Not hurting me. It’s so good. It’s… You’re so good, daddy.”

He laughs softly as his dad hugs him even tighter. Then he lets him go and raises himself up on his elbows. His eyes are wet and Spike wants to kiss his tears away. But then Angel pulls slowly out and he stops breathing. When he slides back inside Spike thinks for a moment that he might just pass out. How is he supposed to survive something that feels so good? He can’t think, can’t do anything but stare up into his daddy’s eyes as he moves slowly, his cock sliding in and out of his stretched entrance and if this isn’t Heaven he doesn’t know what is.

”Dad! Oh god, dad!”

“So good, baby. You’re so tight and warm. God, I love you. Love you so much.”

They kiss again. Lips and tongues and teeth. His dad wraps his arms around him, holding him still, and then he pulls out until only the tip remains inside him.

“I’ll make it so good for you. So good.”

His daddy shifts and then he thrusts in, hitting that place deep inside him. Stars explode in front of his eyes. He hears a scream and he think it’s his own voice. His fingers dig into his daddy’s back, clawing at his skin. God, it’s so much! It’s so much, so much! He can’t…

But then he hits him again, electric fires run through his body and he starts bucking wildly.

“Yes! Oh god! More, daddy, more!”

“God, yes. So good. You’re so good. Jesus!”

Angel slams in a few more times then sits up and pulls him further down the bed, grabbing him by his wrists and pinning his arms above his head. “Put your legs up on my shoulders.”

He complies even if his thighs are shaking so much he can hardly control them.

Oh god! His dad’s cock drives even deeper inside him now. He arches off the bed as it slams into him, his dad’s hips hitting his buttock. He feels a sharp sting but it disappears in the exploding pleasure.

“Daddy! Daddy!!”

He tries to pull his hands free, desperate to touch his cock that feel like it’s bursting. He needs to come. Needs to come right now!

But then there’s a big sweaty hand closing around his cock and he cries out. The wave hits him and he’s bucking and screaming. Something wet hits his cheek.

“Dad!!”

His wrists are being crushed in Angel’s tightening grip. He opens his eyes just in time to see his dad gasp and then he’s fucking him with fast hard thrusts, filling him inside with his release. His legs slip off his dad’s shoulders, trembling violently, as he falls forward, crushing Spike beneath him.

They lie in a heap, bodies heaving with breath, limbs trembling. It’s done.

With a gasp he starts crying, clinging to his dad with all his might, sobbing out words of ‘thank you’ and ‘love you, daddy, love you’. Angel pulls him closer and buries his face in his damp hair. They stay like that until Spike slips into deep sleep, a splat of cum drying on his cheek. He doesn’t even wake up when Angel carefully rolls off, his spent cock slipping out, and stumbles into the bathroom to wash off the cum and streaks of blood.

For the first time in weeks they both sleep soundly, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... *deep breath*
> 
> It's been almost two years since I posted this story last. I never meant for it to be so long, both the hiatus and the story to tell the truth. I hope I haven't lost all of you. And to those of you who have never read this and have no idea what it is... I suggest you read the warnings first. This is a very dark ride.
> 
> This is the last chapter. This is the end. Well, there is an epilogue which will be posted tomorrow so technically that will be the end. I don't suppose you'll all be happy with this but really, there was no other way. So... enjoy. Or not.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/profile)[evilmaniclaugh](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/) for looking it over when I was feeling unsure and telling me it was in fact not that bad. *smooch* I'm going to write a proper author's note after the epilogue, in case anyone is interested.

Slowly he breaks out of the depths of sleep and opens his eyes, blinking at first in confusion. His mum is watching him, a happy smile on her face. He smiles back and reaches out to stroke her check. The glass feels cold under his fingertips. _We made it. We made it, mum. You don’t have to worry about us because we’re happy and together and everything is good._

An arm slides around his waist and he turns over, snuggling into his dad’s warm embrace. The movement brings a sharp sting to his backside and he can’t help wincing.

“Will?” Angel looks at him groggily.

“Hey, dad.” He gives him a big smile to show him how happy he is, how insignificant a little pain is on this glorious day. They kiss, tongues still dry and sticky with sleep. Then Angel pulls away and looks at him, affectionately brushing stray curls away from his face.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Happy. So happy, daddy.”

His wide smile makes Angel laugh and they kiss again, snuggling up even closer.

“Does it hurt… anywhere? Don’t hesitate to tell me.”

His eyes flicker away. He doesn’t want anything to spoil this but he doesn’t want to lie either. “Just a little. It’s ok, I don’t mind. Honestly.”

“Let me have a look.”

He closes his eyes as his dad slides down the bed, hands shooting electric charges through his skin as they run down his body. Moving his limbs like an action figure into the positions he’s put. Knees up, legs apart, bum up.

“I’m all right. Dad, I’m a… nngh!”

The soothing tongue licks away all traces of hurt, replacing them with only memories of last night’s bliss. He shivers, eyes rolling up in his head. Small gasps escape from his lips and without really noticing what he’s doing he starts pushing down, silently begging for deeper, harder, moremoremore! But the tongue is evil, too soft, too kind. It laps at his entrance, turning it into a pool of infuriating pleasure. Finally he can’t take it anymore.

“Dad! Please!”

The licking stops and he want to scream.

“Want more, baby? Want me to suck you?”

“Ye-yes! Please!”

His dad starts licking his way up his cock that’s bouncing against his belly, making it glisten with sticky precum. “You’re so beautiful, baby. So beautiful. Love the way you taste.”

“Love you. Love you, daddy.”

His fingers tighten, twisting the sheet in his fists. He’s on the brink of begging his dad to stop, yelling that it’s too much but then a finger slides gently inside him and he’s coming hard, his arse lifting up from the bed, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper down his dad’s throat as the crooked finger teases that special spot.

Afterwards he lies limp like a rag doll, just expanding his chest to breathe is too much of an effort. The only muscles that seem to work are the ones tugging his lips into a smile. His dad is in the bathroom, showering. The sound of the running water is lulling Spike into a half-slumber, loving words and happy images floating through his mind.

Angel told him to just relax. He’ll call him in sick at school, he has the day off himself. They can spend the rest of the day in bed or snuggling in front of the telly. And tomorrow is the weekend. So three days with nothing to do but kiss and cuddle. And have lots of sex. The small smile turns into a huge grin. Yeah, lots and lots of sex.

Now they’ve done it he just wants to do it again and again. God, it was incredible! He doesn’t even remember that small pain anymore. Just the stars and the feeling of dying just a little from the intense pleasure. Who knew it could be like that? Wait till he tells Danny or better yet shows him…

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so great anymore. Here he is, still covered in his father’s kisses, and he’s thinking of doing it all over again but with Danny? How can he be so bad, so evil? He suddenly feels cold, the sweat on his skin turning to ice. Daddy. All he needs is his daddy. No more kissing Danny in the restrooms between classes, no more touching under the desks, no more jerking each other off in the dark corner under the stairs.

“Want me to run you a bath?”

He jumps, certain that the guilt is written upon his face. “Sorry. I think I dozed off.”

His daddy only smiles and walks over to kiss him. “You just sleep, baby.” He runs a finger down Spike’s chest. “Need to keep your strength for later.”

Spike’s eyes widen, and his dad laughs, ruffling his hair before he walks out. He’s humming some pop song out of tune and Spike smiles to himself. Yes, this is all he wants, all he needs. This is happiness. He’s sure Danny will understand.

The weekend goes by much too fast. They spend most of it in bed, cuddling or talking and then making love again and again. Spike’s tender the first few times but his daddy always goes slowly at first, waiting until Spike’s so far beyond feeling anything but intense pleasure before picking up the speed. Spike likes the slow and gentle lovemaking but he’s beginning to love the hard fast fucking even more. It leaves him euphoric, so high with adrenalin and lust that he can hardly breathe. After each time he’s left shaking and gasping for breath, clinging to his dad’s broad frame like letting go will make him shatter. He’s said, “I love you,” more times than he can remember and still it never means less than the first time, in fact it means more, those simple three words containing his whole world.

They eat pancakes in bed, licking syrup of each other’s skin. They share a shower to get rid off the sticky sugar, Spike falling down on his knees as soon as his father’s heavy hand falls on his shoulder. He stares up at his dad as he swallows him down, watching his eyes close and his head fall back and this, this is his place. Forever and ever and fuck the whole world for disagreeing.

Sunday evening he’s exhausted and sore all over. His jaw aches to the point that he’s having trouble eating, his throat’s swollen and bruised as he swallows. There are bruises on his knees, teeth marks on his shoulder and it hurts every time he goes to the bathroom.

It doesn’t matter. It’s worth it. All of it.

His dad is frying burgers when he walks into the kitchen, the smell of onions and meat making his mouth water. When he slips his arms around his daddy’s waist the bare back is warm and smooth against his cheek.

“Hey there. Have a nice nap?”

“Yeah.” He tightens his hold, closing his eyes. “Thank you.”

His dad stills, spatula hovering over the frying pan. They both know he’s not talking about the food or that his daddy let him sleep the better part of the day.

“You’re welcome, son.”

“I love you so much.”

Putting the spatula aside Angel turns around and puts his arms around Spike’s thin shoulders, pulling him close. “Love you too, baby. Love you so very much.”

They stand like that until the smell of burning makes his daddy jerk awake and curse as he pulls the pan off the stove.

“Shit.”

Spike freezes, his heart picking up in his chest. He waits for his daddy to continue, to tell him that it’s his fault for distracting him. When the words don’t come he blinks and takes a step back. His throat contracts and he’s not sure where to look. Thankfully his dad doesn’t notice anything and just flips the burgers, pouting slightly as he scratches at the blackened surface with the edge of the spatula.

“Don’t think I’ll win this year’s cooking award either.” He glances over at Spike with a smile, which falters slightly as he takes in the look on Spike’s face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, daddy. Are they ruined? Did I ruin them?”

His dad blinks, a frown forming between his eyebrows. “Will, it wasn’t your fault. They’re just burgers. A little burn doesn’t ruin them.” He shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to the stove. “Get the plates, will you?”

Spike sighs in relief and goes to fetch the plates and utensils. There are no clean glasses so he washes two and dries them before placing them on the table. His dad starts whistling as he warms the buns and Spike feels the euphoria return. He feels giddy, now the danger has passed, and giggles when one of the buns falls off the plate and onto the floor.

“Laughing at your old man, are you?” His dad is smiling and he grins back, quirking his eyebrow and wiggling his tongue. They both laugh and his dad slaps his arse playfully.

They eat, talking about everything from books to music, about the new video games and the football game they watched together last night. Spike wonders if it’s possible to burst with happiness. If it is he’s sure he’s going to blow up any minute now.  
  
“Have you done your homework?"

"Daaad!" Spike's whining voice only gets him a stern look and he scowls. "No." Then a sly smile crooks his lips. "You wanna give me a lesson?"

"Spike!" But Angel can't help laughing. "Go get your books and do your homework while I clean up." Running his fingers through Spike's soft hair he tugs him closer and gives him a kiss. "And then we'll see about that lesson."

Spike sucks in his breath, his cock hardening instantly.

 

\------------------

 

It takes Angel three tries to wake the boy up Monday morning. He frowns when he sees how tired Will is. They probably shouldn’t have been at it until so late last night. He thinks he can still feel the tingle in his hand, the heat of Spike’s red cheeks burning his palm. He probably spanked him a bit harder than he should but the boy squirmed so deliciously on his lap and just thinking about the way Spike begged him is making him hard as a rock. He glances at his watch and scowls. They’re gonna be late and even if he’s aching he’ll have to wait until after school.

Spike finally opens his eyes when Angel kisses him hard, blinking against the light before stretching his arms up and pulling Angel down for another kiss. When Angel finally pulls back they’re both panting, the boy smiling up at him with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. His hair is mussed, his lips swollen and he looks so damn fuckable it’s a sign of his strength that Angel doesn’t just blow off work and school and take him right there and then.

“Morning.”

“Morning, daddy.” Spike yawns and slowly sits up, wincing slightly when his arse makes contact with the bed. Angel feels a sting at guilt and reaches out, stroking Spike’s hair. It’s incredibly soft and slightly damp with sweat. He bets that if he leaned over and inhaled it would smell like his fingers. Like sex.

“You sore, son?”

“It’s okay.” Spike looks up at him and smiles. “It’s a good kind of sore.”

He smiles at that. The boy is so eager to please, so eager to show that it’s no more than he can handle. All of it.

“We’re gonna be late. Hurry up.” Angel turns back at the doorway. “Take a quick shower. It will make you feel better.”

The boy actually pouts, his lower lip jutting forward, pink and swollen, and it’s so adorable and fucking hot that Angel can’t decide whether he wants to cuddle him or push him to his knees.

“But I like smelling like you.”

Angel checks his watch. “Well, if you’re real quick we might have time for a blowjob in the car before I drop you off.”

He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud when the kid stumbles out of bed and practically runs to the bathroom. Oh yeah, so eager. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so damn hot.

They make it to school with two minutes to spare. The boy looks almost feverish, his pupils impossibly wide and his cheeks flushed dark pink. He’s still hard - they only really had time for Angel to get his so Spike’s little problem will have to wait – and his clothes are rumbled from where Angel fisted the back of his t-shirt when he came. He gives Angel a pained look and he laughs before reaching out to wipe a spot of come from the corner of Spike’s mouth.

“You keep that hard on until you get home and I’ll reward you real good.”

Spike squirms, shivers running through him as he kneads his erection in an attempt to suppress it. “Dad!”

The bell rings and Angel winks at the boy. “Better run or you’ll be late.”

Spike scowls but reaches back for his school bag. Danny stands waiting for him by the entrance and Spike waves and smiles at him before leaning in through the car window, eyes dark as he licks his lips. “You better fuck me good, daddy, to make it worth it.”

Angel can’t help it, he sucks in his breath, already hard again, and now it’s the boy’s time to smirk.

“Bye, daddy.”

He blows Angel a kiss before turning and jogging across the schoolyard to where Danny is waiting for him. The small boy greets him with a smile but as soon as Spike turns away he shoots Angel a glare. Angel just leers at him and waves before putting the car in gear and driving away. The boy may scowl all he like, Spike will never be his. Not now. Everything’s changed now they’ve finally fucked. Spike is his now, in all possible ways, and that snotty little kid has nothing, nothing, to fight it with.

As he drives to work Angel thinks of all the things they haven’t yet tried. Like toys. Maybe he should do some shopping during his lunch time?

Yeah, life is good.

\---------------------------------

From the moment Danny sees him he just knows. Spike is practically bubbling with glee, smiling and laughing at every stupid little thing, his eyes shining more brightly than he can ever remember seeing before. During recess he pulls Danny into the restroom, looking under the stall doors to make sure they’re alone before turning to him, big Cheshire grin on his face, daring him to ask.

Danny tilts his head. “Something you wanna tell me, Spike?”

He feels sudden nausea burn in his throat when his friend starts to giggle and roll his eyes. “Do I really have to?”

“Let me guess…” _Your dad fucked your fourteen-year-old virgin ass._ “...he gave in?”

“God, Danny! You won’t believe… It was so good! Just… totally amazing. Nothing like…” Spike stops and blushes. “Nothing like I thought it would be.”

“Yeah? That’s why you’re walking funny?”

Spike blushes even deeper at that, averting his eyes briefly before looking back up with a mischievous grin. “Not after the first time. But by the fifth…”

Danny swallows. “Five times? Wow.”

“No, that was when I started to get a little sore. All in all…” Spike frowns in thought. “…oh, probably ten-twelve times. I kinda lost count.” He giggles again, blushing a deep red.

Danny isn’t sure whether he wants to punch Spike or pull him in for a hug and never let him go. “You got to be careful though. To not over do it.” He imagines Spike’s entrance, red and swollen, and his hands clench into fists but Spike just laughs, head thrown back in delight.

“Don’t be silly. You can’t have too much sex. The more you do it, the better it gets.”

“Whatever you say, duck boy.”

Spike frowns at him. “What?”

“You walk like a duck, Spike. You sure he remembered to pull out? Maybe he’s still in there.”

He’s not sure where that comes from, it’s not his style to be cruel. But Spike’s happiness is grating on his nerves, making him want to scream and punch the toilet stalls. He’s not sure if it’s jealousy or anger at Angel for doing this to someone who’s practically his son, not to mention underage, or if he’s more angry with Spike for not seeing how wrong it all is.

Spike’s smile dampens a moment but then it turns soft and he moves forward, making Danny back up until he’s pressed against the door.

“I still like you, Danny. It’s okay.”

“That’s not-“

His protests drown in Spike’s mouth and he can’t help it, he opens up, allowing Spike to slip his tongue inside. Spike tastes strange, a hint of salt behind the usual taste of toast and orange juice and it hits Danny like a fist in his gut when he realises what it is. He tries to pull back but Spike’s hand is curled behind his neck, pressing him close and…

God help him, he just loves him so much.

Spike’s thigh slips in between Danny’s knees, pressing hard up against his groin and he gasps out loud. They can’t do this. Not here, not now when everything’s changed. Not when he knows he’s lost, that the only way he’ll ever be able to get Spike away from his dad is to report him and however much he wants to he just can’t. It would break Spike’s heart and even more importantly it will surely break their friendship. And despite the ache in his heart and the guilt tearing at him for letting this all happen without doing anything about it, he just can’t lose him completely. It hurts, so damn much, but something is better than nothing, and he’ll take what he can. Even if it kills him.

He’s gasping for air, hands clutching Spike’s shoulder as Spike sucks at his neck and grinds harder and faster against his straining erection. Then suddenly he steps slightly back and Danny almost falls forward.

“Wha…?”

The hand slipping inside his loose khaki pants is so warm , the slender fingers wrapping themselves around his cock with more certainty than ever before and knowing the reason why makes him want to cry.

“That good?” Spike is breathing hard against his neck, jerking him off with sure and steady strokes. “Do you like it hard, like this? That’s what daddy likes. Hard and fast.”

Danny closes his eyes. It shouldn’t have this effect on him. He should be disgusted but Spike’s hoarse voice and his filthy words only make him harder and he suddenly has a flash image from that day, Angel’s dark eyes watching him, his monster paws cupping Spike’s cheeks underneath his jeans.

“Just the way he likes fucking. We begin all slow, and then, when I’m going insane from his teasing, he speeds up until he’s slamming into me, fucking me so hard I think I’ll split open. It’s almost too much but it’s sooo good.”

_Oh God. I don’t want to hear. I don’t want to want to hear. Please, God, stop._

“He says my name, over and over again. ‘WillWillWill… Yeah, baby, you’re so tight. So tight.’ And then, when he comes? He. Yells. So. Loud.”

Danny comes with a strangled cry, his fist in his mouth as he spills over Spike’s hand and onto the floor. Spike keeps jerking him until Danny sobs and grabs his wrist. “Please, Spike, stop.”

They stand panting for the longest time, Danny’s eyes still closed where he leans his head against the door, Spike resting his forehead on Danny’s shoulder. Recess is surely over a long time ago and anyone could walk in on them any minute but he just can’t seem to care. This is so fucked up. So totally fucked up.

He tries to fight it, pulling in a deep breath to try and gain control but it just hiccups out of him in a sob and his shoulders start shaking. He hasn’t cried in years, not since his mom told him about the cancer two years ago, but something inside him is breaking and he just can’t fight it. Everything is so wrong and Spike just doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand what he’s doing.

“Danny?”

Spike is pulling back, hand falling from Danny’s limp dick. All cockiness is gone from his voice and he sounds young and scared.

“Danny, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I…?”

He shakes his head but he can’t speak and he can’t open his eyes. He wishes he was at home, smoking his mother’s weed and listening to The Moody Blues with nothing more on his mind than how to play that guitar riff or catch that note. Anything but being right here, right now, having his heart broken into a million little pieces, feeling disgusted with himself for what he’s done.

“Danny, please. I’m sorry. I don’t know… Say something.”

Danny shoves his dick back into his pants, still not opening his eyes. “I gotta go.” He fumbles for the door handle behind him and turns the knob, finally opening his eyes but not able to look at Spike. “I need to go home. Now.”

“Danny! Don’t… don’t go. Please! I’m sorry. I thought you wanted it. That you wanted me.”

He stops in his tracks, breathing hard. “Spike… I do want you. I just… I need to go home.”

He’s halfway through the woods when he realises he forgot his jacket and backpack. He doesn’t stop though, just keeps on running until he gets home, slipping quietly inside and up the stairs. His mother is sleeping and if he’s lucky she won’t even notice he’s back until it’s time for him to be back from school.

He crawls into bed and cries until his body finally gives into exhaustion and he falls asleep.

\------------------------

“Hey. How was-?” His dad stops mid-sentence and narrows his eyes at him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything. Everything’s wrong. He’d been adamant to tell Danny they couldn’t do stuff like that anymore but as soon he saw him all he wanted to do was kiss him. His blood had been buzzing from his dad’s teasing that morning and then, when they’d started talking about sex… There had been something in Danny’s eyes, something he’d thought was hunger but now he’s not so sure anymore, but it screamed at him, making it impossible not to touch him. And it had been so good, so hot. But then everything went bad, so bad, and now he doesn’t know what to do. What if Danny hates him? What if he’s ruined everything?

“Nothing. I had a… a fight with Danny.”

God, he’d been crying. He didn’t even know Danny could cry. He always seemed so calm, so totally relaxed and laid back but… He’d just looked so broken. Why? What had he done?

“Fight? What about?”

His head snaps up at his dad’s sharp voice and he panics. His dad doesn’t know Danny knows. He has to think of something, anything. “Homework.”

Angel frowns. “You had a fight about homework?”

“He wanted to copy my work and I didn’t want him to. I could get into trouble.”

God, he feels like a total jerk for lying like that, for smearing Danny like that. Like he even gives a shit about homework. Like he wouldn’t let Danny copy whatever he wanted.

His dad sighs and lays a hand on his thigh. “Spike, he shouldn’t copy your homework but I’m sure it’s not worth fighting over, right? You should call him when we get home.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” He swallows. “Or maybe I should… Maybe I should just go see him? I said some pretty bad things.”

Angel gives him a puzzled look. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I just got mad, dad. I didn’t mean any of it. But…” He looks away. “He’s my only friend. And now maybe he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

His dad sits silent for a while and then he rubs Spike’s thigh soothingly. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you. But you’re right, it’s better to do it in person. I’ll drop you off at his house but I want you home by nine.” He glances over at Spike as his hand moves further up, thumb flicking over Spike’s cock. “I have something I want to show you.”

He manages a small smile, the warmth of his daddy’s hand sending shivers up his spine. “Okay.” He bites his lip and lifts his hips slightly to meet his dad’s strokes. “I did as you told me. Been hard for you all day.”

It’s not true but the lie is worth seeing Angel smile at him like that.

“Good boy.”

The words go straight to his cock and the twitch in his pants makes his dad smile widen even further.

“I could… I could suck you off before we get there. If you want.”

Angel looks over at him, his cheeks mildly flushed. Then he reaches out and cups Spike’s neck, nodding slightly before pushing him down into his lap.

For some reason it isn’t nearly as fun as it was this morning.

\---------------------

Danny’s mum throws him a smile that makes his heart ache. “William! How nice to see you. Danny’s upstairs.” She opens the door wider, stepping aside to let him in.

He just nods, blushing when she gives him a scrutinising look.

“You boys fight? He’s been listening to The Moody Blues ever since he got home. To Danny that’s like therapy.”

Spike swallows, unable to look at her. “Is he mad?”

“Oh honey, he’ll be okay. Whatever it is, my Danny’s never been able to hold a grudge. I’m sure as soon as he sees you’re here he’ll forget all about whatever it was you fought about.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He toes off his sneakers and hangs up his jacket, noticing that Danny’s jacket is missing and his stomach twists when he remembers why. He didn’t even bring it to him. Some friend he is.

“Sweetie, you okay? Everything fine with your dad?”

He stares at her, his heart hammering in his chest, but there’s nothing but concern in her eyes and he blinks away his fear. “Yeah. Everything’s great. I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Okay. You know, you can talk to me, Spike. If there’s anything on your mind…”

“There’s nothing. I’m fine. Thank you.” He practically runs up the stairs, fleeing her shrewd eyes.

The door to Danny’s room is closed but he can hear soft music playing from the other side. He hesitates for a minute, hand hovering at the door. Then he knocks and pushes it open.

Danny’s halfway out of bed when he sees who it is and he slumps back, eyes cast down.

“Hey.” Spike shifts awkwardly, then steps inside and closes the door behind him. “You okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Danny still isn’t looking at him, fingers fiddling with a loose thread in the bedspread.

“I wanted … I came to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He steps closer, the lump in his throat so big he can hardly talk. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Why did you? Why did…?” Danny finally looks up at him. His eyes are glittering, his lips tight. “What do you want from me? What am I to you?”

“Danny… I…” He swallows. He has no idea how to answer that. “You said… You said you didn’t mind sharing.”

Danny shakes his head. “I was wrong. I can’t… I can’t do this, Spike.”

“Can’t do what?” _Don’t do this. Please._ His heart is beating fast, thumping inside his chest like a jackhammer.

“Can’t watch you throw your life away for something so…” Danny throws his hands up in sudden anger. “He’s your dad, Spike!”

Spike feels his face flush, his whole body going rigid. “He’s just my stepdad. We’re not even related.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s still… You’re just fourteen!”

“I’ll be fifteen in a few weeks. And that didn’t seem to bother you when it was you with your hands down my pants!” He’s yelling, fear and anger making him tremble and his hands closed into fists.

Danny stares at him, the flush draining from his face until he looks as pale as a corpse. He slumps back, one hand fumbling at his chest as if he’s trying to shelter his heart.

“I’m sorry. Danny, I didn’t mean it.” Spike blinks as his eyes fill with water.

“You’re right.” Danny’s voice is hoarse, his eyes unfocused. “I shouldn’t have. Maybe you should go. Maybe you should stay away from me.”

“No! I’m sorry. Please, Danny, no. You’re my only friend. My only friend.”

“No. This… this won’t work.” Danny shakes his head absently, voice distant. “I can’t… No.”

Spike stares at him. Everything is gone wrong. He’s ruined everything and now Danny hates him. Danny… Danny hates him. “Danny?” Please. Please, don’t.

“No. Go. Go, Spike. Go!”

Spike finally breaks through the invisible barrier separating them as he rushes across the room, throwing himself at Danny in desperation. “Don’t push me away. Don’t leave me. Please, Danny. Pleasepleaseplease.”

“I can’t do this, Spike. I can’t! You need to go. Please. Just go. Go.”

“No! Don’t! Danny, please!”

This can’t be happening. Nonono. He’s crying, his breath turning into shallow gasps and he clutches at Danny’s shirt, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. “Pleasepleaseplease...” Each word lessens the air in his lungs, his efforts of replacing it becoming a desperate struggle but he can’t stop, it’s all he has left. He can feel his head starting to spin, pain spreading through his chest. “Pleasepleaseplease…”

“Spike… Spike?” The distant tone disappears from Danny’s voice, replaced by fear. “Hey, no. No no. Don’t… Sshh, calm down. Come on, Spike. Breathe.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” His eyes widen in panic. He really can’t breathe. He can’t… The room is turning dark, everything hurts, and still all he wants is to hear that Danny forgives him. “Please…” he whispers as Danny’s terrified face starts to blur. He’s saying something but Spike can’t hear him, the blood whooshing too loudly in his ears.

“I won’t leave you. I’m sorry. God, Spike, I’m so sorry. Don’t get sick. Don’t… Spike? Spike!”

The lights turn off just as he hears Danny scream, “MOM!”

\-------------------------

Fuck. Angel throws the cell on the seat beside him, fumbling in the glove apartment for the charger. He forgot to charge it all weekend, forgot to check it this morning, and it’s been lying dead in his jacket pocket all day without him noticing. He’d gone to the mall after dropping Spike off at Danny’s, browsing the shops for some small gift to give Martha for her birthday next Thursday. She always tells him he doesn’t have to buy her anything but the one time he hadn’t she’d hardly spoken to him in days. Women. Finally he’d settled on a box of assorted Godiva chocolates. She’ll scold him for trying to fatten her and then she’ll eat every one of them with a blissful look on his face.

While walking to the car, he’d realised how late it was and checked his phone for missed calls, since Spike should have called him up by then. Except his phone was dead. Fuck.

He plugs it into the lighter slot and turns it on. Pushing in the PIN code and waiting impatiently for it to register and give him a signal. It takes forever and he’s growling with irritation when it finally connects but before he can look up the number for Danny’s house the phone is bleeping, lights flashing. Five missed calls, messages waiting on his voicemail. What the hell?

_“Hello? This is Danny’s mother. William had another episode. It looks bad and I’m not sure what to do. Please call me.”_  
  
Beep.

_“It’s Danny’s mom again. I’ve tried reaching you at home and the police station. William isn’t getting better. I’m going to take him to the ER. I’m sure it’s nothing serious but I’d hate to risk it. Please call me or meet me there.”_

Beep.

_“Mr. O’Connor? This is at St. John’s Hospital. We have your son here at the ER and really need you to come in as soon as possible. He’s not in danger but we need to talk to you.”_

Beep.

_“Angel? It’s Martha. They just called me about Spike. What’s going on? Call me.”_

Beep.

_“Dad? Danny’s mum loaned me her-her phone. I- I didn’t tell them anything, I swear. I didn’t mean to get sick, daddy. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad. Please, daddy. They keep asking me questions but-but I’m not telling. I’m not saying anything. I love you. I love you so much. Please, dad. I wanna go home. Can you please come? Please da- I gotta go.”_

Beeeeep.

Silence.

His heart beats. Baboom. Baboom. Baboom.

Slowly he undoes his seatbelt, opens the car door and leans out. Vomits. A woman walking by stops, watching him with concern. He looks up. She has blond hair and blue eyes. His head drops and he throws up again, brownish thick liquid running across the asphalt and disappearing under the car.

“You all right? Sir? You need any help?”

He doesn’t answer, just waves her away with a lame gesture.

“You sure?”

He nods. Then waits until the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement fades away before sitting slowly up, blank eyes staring out the window.

It’s over.


	26. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/profile)[evilmaniclaugh](http://evilmaniclaugh.livejournal.com/) for looking it over. *smooch* I've written half an essay at the end of this, explaining a few things and just general musings about this story. I hope that's okay.

“Your passport, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir, and I hope you have a pleasant stay.”

He nods and tightens the grip on his suitcase. People keep bumping into him and he swallows down the panic. He’s sure they can tell, can see it in his eyes. Any moment now someone will stop and point at him.

It takes forever to get out of the huge airport and when he finally steps outside the fresh air hits him in the face. It smells of plane fuel and car fumes. Of freedom. He takes a deep breath and it stutters in his throat. Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry.

A cab honks its horn at him as he steps onto the street, failing to look in the right direction. It misses him by a few inches, the Indian driver shaking his fist out the window.

Yeah, yeah. Fuck you too.

Another cab swings up by his side and he gets in, rambling of the address on the envelope in his pocket. It’s autumn and the colours of the leaves on the trees and bushes are beautiful, the air crisp and relatively clear. All around him people are rushing to different destinations. Living their lives as if nothing has happened.

He sits back and closes his eyes. He feels so tired and not just because of the six hour flight.

He jerks awake when the driver shouts out an, “Oi! Wake up, we’re there!” He pays the fare and gets out, putting the small suitcase down on the pavement as he looks around. It’s a quiet street, only a few cars parked by the curb. Not many at home at this time of day. He takes a deep breath and turns around, facing the house. There’s a small patch of grass in front, what probably counts as a garden in these parts. The walls are white, the windowpanes and door black. Yellow curtains block the view through the windows.

Bending down he grabs the suitcase and straightens up slowly, heart hammering in his chest. He swings open the small gate. It creaks on its hinges. He closes it behind him and walks up to the door. He raises his hand and his fingers tremble as he pushes the small bell. Then stands still, unable to breathe as he waits.

There’s the sound of feet hurrying down stairs and then the door is swung open and he sucks in his breath.

“Yea-?” The young man in front of him freezes, blue eyes open wide and so clear Angel can see his reflection. He stands blinking repeatedly, and then suddenly his face crumples and he staggers forward, hands coming up to clutch Angel’s sweat drenched shirt. “Dad? Daddy?”

Angel’s eyes close as he wraps his arms around the slender form, burying his face in the golden hair. He smells differently now, like curry and tea and cigarettes. There are strong muscles flexing under the thin t-shirt as Spike shakes with sobs and Angel can feel rough stubble where his son’s face is buried against his neck.

“Sshh. Sshh. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

Time seems to stand still. He can hear cars rushing by on the street behind him, hear the voices of two women chatting happily as they pass. The light breeze feels cool against his close-cropped scalp, the afternoon sun warm on his back.

“Spike?”

Angel looks up and through the blur of unshed tears meets Danny’s eyes where he stands in the doorway, staring at them in shock. Slowly he loosens his hold around his son and pushes him gently away. Spike clings to him a moment longer before stepping back, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Danny steps forward and puts one hand on his shoulder, his fingers curling protectively, eyes never leaving Angel.

“Hello, Danny.”

Danny nods at him before leaning closer to Spike. “You alright?”

“I don’t know,” Spike says, eyes locked on his father and just like that he knows it was a mistake coming here. He should have stayed away. Should have spared Will the pain of seeing him again. He doesn’t belong here. He never did.

“I’m sorry,” he says and takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have come.”

Danny slides one arm around Spike’s waist, pulling him closer when he sways on his feet. “It’s been a while.” His voice is calm but his eyes speak volumes. Spike doesn’t say anything, just breathes slowly, in, out, and Danny gives him a worried look and starts stroking his arm.

“Eleven years.”

“Maybe you should come inside. Spike?”

Spike seems to blink awake and he nods. “Yeah. Come in. Dad.”

He turns and walks inside the house, pausing briefly to catch Danny’s hand. The simple gesture makes Angel’s heart ache and for a moment he contemplates turning around and fleeing. Instead he follows them inside, putting his suitcase down in the hallway before entering the apartment. He looks around, taking in what is now his son’s home. The living room is painted pale yellow with a white fireplace. Picture frames clutter the shelves. He recognises Danny’s mother from a couple, looking frailer than he remembers her. He doesn’t dare to ask if she’s still alive. His eyes stop on a picture of Danny and Spike in tuxedos, smiling widely, arms slung across each other’s shoulders. They look so happy he wants to cry.

“June, last year.”

He turns around to find Spike standing behind him, eyes on the picture. His shoulders are hunched, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He’s looking better now, eyes still red-rimmed in a pale face but they’re calm and open and there’s a smile tugging at his lips that Angel knows has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the man in the picture.

“You got married?”

“Yeah. Weird, right? Me, married.” He laughs softly and for a moment he looks fourteen years old again.

“I wouldn’t know.” Angel smiles apologetically when Spike gives him a puzzled look. “I only know you as the child you were. He was a pretty romantic kid.”

Spike bites his lip and nods. “Yeah. Guess I was.”

“Still are, love. Give up the tough act, you’re a big softy.”

Spike turns and smiles at Danny, accepting the mug of tea from his hand. Angel takes the other mug and nods his thanks, watching silently as Danny kisses Spike on the cheek and murmurs something in his ear before leaving the room.

“What did he say?”

Spike looks up. “To let him know if I needed him. And that it’s okay.” He sits down on the couch, taking a small sip of the hot liquid.

Angel swallows. “What is?”

“You being here. Me missing you, despite everything,” Spike adds softly and his knuckles whiten around the mug. “I never thought I’d see you again, dad.”

“I’m sorry. I just… I needed to see that you were alright. And… ask you to forgive me.”

At Spike’s startled look Angel puts away the mug, his words rushing out. “I don’t expect you to. I don’t expect anything, Will. I’ll go away and never bother you again, I promise. I just needed to tell you how sorry I am. For what I did to you. For everything. God, Will, I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I understand that you hate me, believe me. I hate myself more than anything. I…”

Spike shakes his head. “Dad, don’t. Please. I don’t hate you.” He shrugs. “It was a long time ago. We were both stupid.”

“Don’t say that! Will, you were a child. And I was your father.” His breath hitches before he can stop himself, eyes filling with tears. “I was supposed to be your father, Will.”

Spike smiles sadly. “You still are. You never stopped being my father, dad.”

“No.” Angel shakes his head. “You can’t do this. You can’t…”

“What? Forgive you? Love you?”

He closes his eyes, tears stinging behind his eyelids. “Don’t. Please, don’t,” he whispers.

“Dad, it was wrong.” Spike touches Angel’s arm lightly and he forces his eyes open, Spike’s own too kind eyes watching him. “Of course it was wrong. I know that now. I have years of therapy and three attempted suicides that tell me that.” He ignores Angel’s shocked look. “You took advantage of me, you used my youth and innocence and I was too naïve to realise.”

“I’m so sorry…” Angel chokes out, the lump in his throat making it hard to breathe.

Spike sighs. “Dad, I forgive you. I really do.”

“You can’t.” He shakes his head. “You can’t, Will.”

Spike puts away his tea mug as well and stands up. “Yes, I can. And you know why? Because I need to believe you did love me, and that I loved you.” Spike walks to the window, hands resting on the windowsill as he stares out. “That despite everything, however wrong it was, however sick and twisted and with all the shit it did to me - is still doing to me - it was love.” He glances over his shoulder. “That’s what keeps me sane, dad.”

His eyes turn to the window again, shoulders stiffening. “My therapist disagrees. Danny disagrees. They say the whole blame lies with you and the only way to move on is for me to realise it was never about love. That sexual abuse is never about love. I know they’re right. I mean, the things you did…”

He shakes his head, shoulders trembling, and Angel feels nausea rise in his throat. “But if I accept that as the truth it means that all I have left of us, of you and me and the years we spent together, is this… disgust. Revulsion. I can’t do that. I can’t live with the thought that my whole childhood was just a prelude to one big sick incestuous nightmare.”

“It wasn’t… When you were younger…” Angel stumbles over his words, sobs stuck in his throat. “Never. I never thought of you like that. Not then. We were happy. You and me and your mother. It wasn’t sick. Not then. Will, I promise you.”

Spike nods slowly. “How long then?”

Angel swallows. “The summer before. I don’t know what happened. One day you were just my little Will and then suddenly you were like this Adonis, so beautiful you took my breath away. I couldn’t stop thinking about touching you.” There are tears running down his face, tickling his cheeks, and he just lets them fall. “I tried, I swear I did, but God, I failed. I failed myself and I failed you. And Will, you have to know, none of it was your fault. You were innocent. Never blame yourself. Never. Promise me.”

“I came on to you. It was me. I started it.” He says it in a way that it’s evident he’s said it a hundred times before, a stubborn defence of his own guilt, and Angel wants to put a bullet into his own brain. God, he did this to him.

Slowly he walks over to his son and after a brief hesitation lays one hand on his shoulder. He expects Spike to stiffen or jerk away but instead he leans into the touch, eyes closed, and that simple act makes his eyes well up again and his chest tighten.

“No, Will. You didn’t. I did. It was me. It was all me.”

Spike shakes his head. “No. I remember…”

“It was all me.” He keeps his voice even and firm, leaving no room for doubt. “Everything that happened, I did it to you. You never did anything.”

The young man in front of him starts shaking, crumbling in on himself until he is all but fourteen years old again. “Daddy…”

God. Angel swallows and has to fight to keep from faltering. “I was a bad father, the worst kind. And you were the perfect son. I failed you and you… you loved me. That was your only mistake. Ok? Do you understand?”

Spike sucks in his breath and starts sobbing. “I did love you, daddy. I loved you so much.”

“I know, Will. I know you did. But now you love Danny and he loves you. Very much.”

“He does.” Spike turns in his arms and presses his wet face into Angel’s chest. “He really does, daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Sshh. No.” Angel strokes his back in slow circles. “Don’t be. It’s good. He makes you happy. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. I am.”

“Ok. That’s good.” He can sense Danny in the doorway, watching them. “That’s all I wanted to know.” He tightens his hold slightly, blinking to clear his vision. “I’m going to leave now, Will, and I’m not coming back.”

He can feel Spike stiffening in his arms, his breath suddenly quickening. “No! Daddy…”

“Sshh. It’s ok. Everything’s gonna be ok. I promise.”

On cue, Danny is by their side and after kissing Spike lightly on the head, Angel pushes him gently away and into Danny’s arms. Spike is staring at him with eyes filled with confusion and hurt and it takes all of Angel’s strength not to grab him and drag him away from there.

“You take care of him, ok?”

Danny nods, his hold tightening around Spike. “I always do.”

“I know. Thank you.” He smiles softly, branding the picture of them into his memory. “Goodbye.”

He walks out, grabbing his suitcase and closing the door on the sounds of Spike’s quiet sobbing and Danny’s soft murmurs of comfort. It’s started to rain, a gentle drizzle that tickles his face. He takes a deep breath, breathing in the cool smell of London in autumn. Leaves and rain and wet pavement. Then he starts walking down the road, brisk steps carrying him away.

His plane back to LA leaves in the morning. They will be waiting for him, after all he broke parole. It doesn’t matter. He has no place being outside anyway.

This is not his world.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was just an innocent doe-eyed LJ-er, two of my dearest friends, evilmaniclaugh and hellsbells, started the community sickchicks. This fic can be blamed in its entirety on that. Lol
> 
> It started out as just a little ficlet, an answer to a request made by dancetomato to write about my “Coming to bed, daddy?” icon because we were on quite a daddy!kink rush at the moment. We have Angel perving over Spike while they’re eating breakfast. Nothing new there. They get up and go to the car, Angel continuing to perve over a seemingly oblivious Spike as they drive to wherever they’re going. And then the last line hits.
> 
> _"See you tonight, dad," he says, and walks toward the school, only pausing slightly to give Angel a little wave._
> 
> Yeah, I’m evil. I’m also a sucker for last minute revelations.
> 
> But now the cat was out of the bag, Spike was an innocent little schoolboy and Angel was his perverted father (although in ch.2 he was revealed to actually be his stepfather because I’m a chicken) and it seemed people liked it and for the next few months I wrote half of what is now the longest series I’ve ever written, Just Watching. Of course, by then the title was completely wrong because they were doing a lot more than just watching! I was on maternity leave and so I sat writing at night, sometimes until as late as six in the morning, and then posted right away, without a beta and on very little sleep. Wasn’t until later that I realised that my POVs were all fucked up, sometimes even changing within the same paragraph. Lol It’s a bit embarrassing really but it would take so much work to fix and I’m not sure I would come out with the same story if I did.
> 
> Even if I love the characters in this dearly, not only the main ones but my OCs too, Martha and Danny’s mum, this story was very hard to write. It’s a highly emotional story and it effected me deeply at times, so much that I had to take a break from writing it. That break lasted a whole year. When I finally managed to break the block I re-posted the whole thing unlocked on my journal, back dating it to the same date as it was originally posted locked on sickchicks and set out to finish it. That didn’t work. 4 chapters later I got stuck again and this time it took me two years to get back to it.
> 
> In fact you can thank thatotherperv for this finally being here. Because I did finish writing it a few months ago and then was scared to post it. Now that you’ve read it I think you can gather why. But she mentioned it on a rec list she made and when I told her of its status she urged me to go ahead and after a brief hesitation, (and some last minute editing) I did.
> 
> The thing is, this was never meant to have a happy ever after ending. Not for Spike and Angel, together. How could it? We have a father who rapes his son and then makes him believe it’s his own fault. We have a kid who is so desperate for his father’s love he’ll do anything to get it. The mere thought of his father being angry with him has Spike in panic attacks, making him physically ill. He is fourteen years old and he sees their relationship with the eyes of a fourteen year old. He thinks it’s the love of his life, that he can’t live without Angel. And Angel is so smitten, so overcome with his own feelings he can’t see the child anymore, he just sees this sexual being that he wants more than anything. I’m not saying they didn’t love each other, that they don’t still love each other, but it wasn’t a healthy kind of love and it had no place flourishing. That was just never to be and if anyone feels cheated by that I’m sorry.
> 
> I try beyond anything to make my stories believable, to make them feel real. Like these are real persons living somewhere out there in the real world. Now ask yourself, if you knew these people were out there, maybe even living in your street; if Spike was a kid in your class, or in your kid’s class; if Angel was the policeman cruising your neighbourhood, supposed to be keeping it save from bad men… What would you expect to happen to them? Think about that.
> 
> That’s all I ask.
> 
> Lastly, if anyone is still reading, I’d like to thank all of you who have stuck with me through this whole journey. 
> 
> 65.224 words. It’s taken me three years, 4 months and three days to finish this. I really hope it was worth the wait.


End file.
